Fate
by Gerald Tarrant
Summary: The sequel to Butterfly's Sleep. The reincarnated Seiryuu seishi discover that in a battle of unknown proportions, their greatest enemy might be themselves.
1. Yami : Darkness

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_
**YAMI:DARKNESS**

_All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away..._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

My name is Jeff Cotorro and right now, my apartment looks like a garbage heap.  
I had known for a while that my roommate was going to be leaving New York. Mike had just enough of the typical bassoonist intelligence to tell me the actual date two days before he was due to fly out to Los Angeles. Which resulted in two days of not sleeping or practicing, stuffing belongings into boxes and snatching bits of leftover pizza and coke in between.  
Needless to say, after I saw him off to the airport at five in the morning, I almost fell asleep on the drive back home.  
I collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to change, and would have fallen asleep in five seconds if the phone hadn't rung. It was the oboe player from my woodwind quintet, wondering if practice could be changed to seven instead of nine that morning.  
I am normally a very patient person, but I suppose in that moment, all my frustration and sleep deprivation caught up to me. After I hung up the phone on the very stunned oboe player, I curled up in a ball on the unmade bed and fell asleep.  
I woke up staring at the red and violet shadows creeping across my ceiling. My blurry eyes told me that the time on the clock was five fifteen, and it gradually dawned on me that I had slept through the whole day.  
It was a good thing I had not had full orchestra practice today.  
I climbed out of bed feeling groggy, with that unwashed, fuzzy taste in my mouth. Going into the bathroom, I washed my face and brushed my teeth, which made me feel slightly better. There were piles of dirty laundry by the trash can, and dirty dishes piled up in the sink in the kitchen. Old newspapers sunbathed on the kitchen table in the light of the setting sun. I wondered if there were roaches in the bathtub.  
Sighing, I opened the refrigerator. All the leftover pizza was gone. There was half a macaroni casserole left, which Mike's girlfriend had brought us last night while we were madly packing. Some ice cream in the freezer. An empty jug of orange juice.  
We were pathetic.  
My still-asleep brain finally processed this information and decided to order some Chinese for dinner that night. I was sick of pizza.  
The message light was blinking on the phone, but I called the take-out place first to make sure my order was on the way, then hit the replay button.  
"Jeff, this is Marcie. You never returned my call last night and I was just wondering if you were ok. Give me a call. Bye."  
That earned a wry smile. Marcie and I had been over for two months, and still she wouldn't give up. I hit delete.  
"Hello, Jeff, this is Brian Cranway. You missed quintet practice today, and Alan said you chewed him out on the phone. That's not like you. Just wanted to check up on you and make sure you were all right. If you get this message, call me back. Thanks."  
I let the message finish playing and the recording whir, and then sat in the silence of my kitchen, surveying the mess on the floor and the counters.  
_That's not like you._  
I was the "nice" flutist, right? The patient, kind, ever helpful symphony member who would drive an hour to someone else's house to help organize music or count out a part. The one who would always end up after concerts with the janitor cleaning up. The one who had sacrificed a budding solo career because, the conductor said, "We need you."  
No, it wasn't like me at all.  
The sun had almost set now, and the messes in the kitchen were incoherent lumps casting their feeble shadows in the growing dark. I smelled stale pizza and unwashed socks in the air. A few cars rumbled past outside the apartment, and the floor vibrated. Then it was quiet.  
I suddenly felt very sorry for myself.  
There was a knock on the door. The takeout. I paid and tipped the delivery boy, and then retreated back to my lonely vigil in the kitchen. Twirling the plastic fork through too greasy noodles, I ate my food in slow forkfuls.  
I was happy, wasn't I? I had a successful symphony career. I was a well-known solo performer. I had a decent apartment in a decent part of town. I went to church dutifully every Sunday, tried to be as helpful and considerate as I could. I was single, but had only been for a short while, and soon I would probably find some nice girl and marry her. Wasn't that how it always worked?  
Surely some of that would count a little towards happiness.  
I finished my noodles and began the arduous process of washing last week's dishes. Mike never washed dishes. He would go through the cupboard pulling them out one by one until there were no more left. Then he would go through the sink, pulling out the plate with the least grease stains and bread crumbs and pronounce it clean. At first, I had complained. Then I just gave up and began silently and uncomplainingly washing the dishes once a week. I suppose Mike considered it a miracle that clean dishes just appeared in the cupboard from time to time.  
But with everything had had gone on this week, I just hadn't had time to do anything productive, much less wash dishes.  
I turned on the radio and listened to the staticky DJ and then the equally staticky disco song that followed. Undoubtedly Mike had turned it to that station. Neither he nor I had regularly listened to the radio, but his taste in popular music had to be some of the most pointless music ever to grace the face of the earth.  
I rinsed the plates and placed them on the drying rack, only half-listening to the sappy love song crackling on the radio. The single kitchen light was harsh and seemed to hold back the surrounding darkness only be sheer strength of will. When I turned it off…  
When I turned it off, the world would vanish.  
_Promise me you'll find my brother. Promise me…you'll take care of him._  
The apartment was too dark and empty and Mike's voice seemed to whisper in the shadows, laughter and light and music all spinning into a globe of memories floating away from me. I could see Marcie smiling at me in the corners of my memory. Feel her arms around me.  
We had only lasted six months, Marcie and I. I suppose I always knew it was hopeless. She was a piano major at the University of New York, and we had met at a university concert. She was so fiercely independent and yet forlornly lost at the same time, young eyes shining with life and passion, and she moved with a lion's grace. She reminded me…  
She reminded me of Shun.  
That's why I began dating her, I suppose. I pursued her with a relentless abandon for a whole month before she even began expressing any interest in me. It was through hell and back, trying to win her. And then when we did began dating, she hung on to me like I was the only one in the world that could give her…anything.  
Shunkaku had done that.  
I left Marcie, like I left Shun. I couldn't take it anymore. It was too much responsibility, too much fear and anger and worry. You'd think I would have learned in one life not to repeat mistakes I made in the last, but apparently not. She called me several times everyday for weeks, leaving messages. Sometimes crying, sometimes coldly angry, sometimes filled with long strings of expletives, sometimes long minutes of silence that I knew were her just sitting and holding the phone to her ear, saying nothing.  
It was only a call a day now, and I expected those to start to fade, too. At first I had called her back, trying to reason with her, but it was like trying to reason with a rock. She didn't understand…she would never understand. I didn't understand. Didn't understand the man who called himself Jeff Cotorro, professional flutist, who had once been a boy named Amiboshi, Seiryuu shichi seishi.  
I think maybe I was born to betray and be betrayed. Maybe that's how destiny works. They say history repeats itself.  
I flung the last dripping clean mug on the tray and turned off the water. My hands were wrinkly from the hot water and soap suds, and as I dried them on the towel, I felt the skin starting to flake off.  
I hated it when that happened. It was like trying to play the flute with skin made of thin paper. And then sometimes my hands would crack and bleed and there would be blood all over the keys. If I bothered to put on lotion it would never happen, but I was just too lazy.  
Not wanting to leave the kitchen, I perched on one of the bar stools and just sat, looking out the window at the city lights beyond. I was stuck, that's what I was. Stuck in New York, with no career and no future and nowhere to go.  
_So do something about it._  
I snorted softly to myself. That was easy to say. It wasn't easy bringing myself up to this level of playing, and it wasn't like I could just waltz into France or someplace and be guaranteed a job.  
France…  
I sat up on my stool. There had been a call a few weeks ago for me. From France. They had wanted me to teach over there and maybe audition with a few ensembles. I'd said no, with some regret, because I hadn't been thinking of going anywhere at the moment. I'd been happy here.  
But maybe I wasn't so happy anymore.  
I jumped off the stool and scrabbled by the phone for the piece of paper I knew on which I had written down the number. Some school of music in Paris. Not too famous, but at this point, famous didn't matter. I wanted out.  
With shaking hands, I picked up the receiver to dial long-distance. Maybe there was still a spot for me. Maybe they hadn't auditioned yet.  
Oh please, Seiryuu…let it be so.

  
The dolphins were jumping tonight, and I was content to watch them from the beach, backs silver in the moonlight.  
"Nikolas?"  
Markos. He sat down beside me. I could feel that he was not happy.  
"What happened?"  
"Demetrios quit today. We're one actor short now."  
I turned incredulous eyes on him. "Demetrios? He just arrived!"  
Markos spread his hands. "He said he got another better offer somewhere else. He's leaving tomorrow. I'm not going to beg him to stay. I do have my pride, you know."  
I sighed. The waves crashed on the beach. "You said we're one actor short. There's no one else you interviewed?"  
Markos grimaced. "Some actor from Cyprus, but I didn't like his voice. And there were a few others, but I can't remember. No one good enough for me, at least."  
I smiled wryly. "That's the problem of having an actor do interviews for other actors. We're too picky."  
"Better too picky than sorry later!"  
I patted him on the back. "Calm down, Markos. We can double on parts. We'll find someone later."  
He muttered darkly, before brightening noticeably. "Oh, and I got a call yesterday. They want us to go perform in Italy."  
I raised an eyebrow.  
He looked apologetic. "I called several months ago because I heard there was going to be a Greek and Roman festival sometime this summer in a part of Rome, and I wanted to know if we could participate. You know people have been dying to go on the road for a while now. We've been too sedate."  
"You could have told me sooner."  
"I forgot. The call just came in today telling me they want us starting next week."  
"That's why you cancelled all of next week's performances. I was wondering."  
Markos nodded. "That's right."  
"When do we leave?"  
"It's not far, so we're leaving on Friday driving over. We can use your car, I'm hoping?"  
"For what it's worth," I said. "I need to get an oil change. The thing's falling apart, but I think it can survive a trip to Italy and back."  
"Good," Markos said, clapping me on the back and then rising to his feet. "I'm going home. I'll see you tomorrow bright and early."  
"Good night," I murmured, hearing him leave. The waves crashed in my ears. I should be going also. I had had a long day. Paperwork and long practices did not make an actor's life any easier.  
I stood up, stretching. There was a crick in my neck and my back and legs felt sore. I'd gone running for the first time in two weeks just this morning, and I had a feeling that when I woke up in the morning, I would probably not be able to walk. Ah, well. Exercise was exercise, and an actor couldn't afford to be a slob.  
My car was in the parking lot on the other side of the building, about five minutes walk away. I liked to come to the ocean after a day of work, just to relax and to think. I had too little time to think lately.  
There was a little notebook full of phone numbers that I carried around in my pocket with me everywhere, and somewhere in there was the number for one Marco Bocelli, who might like to hear that I was coming to Italy.  
Then again, I didn't know if he would be pleased or not. I didn't know if I wanted to call him. I had gotten the number almost on a whim, and thinking about it now, I was having second thoughts.  
Once a Seiryuu seishi, always a Seiryuu seishi, wasn't it? I hadn't been the best seishi that had ever walked the earth, and neither had Ashitare. Maybe we would understand each other.  
I had to smile at that.  
I gazed out at the ocean one last time. I would have to decide soon whether to call him…Marco was probably a busy man, with his company and renovation projects. I admired him for that. He seemed to have a passion for the arts, if I had heard Yui correctly when she described the projects that he was involved in. Then there was a good chance we would understand each other, as ironic as that seemed.  
I remembered why I had stopped taking time out of the day to think, now. Because my thoughts didn't make sense and it was much better to just act on whim, dazzling audiences with some spur-of-the-moment performance and illusion of perfection.  
It was late. It was time to go home.  
As I turned, out of the corner of my eye I could see the silver of a dolphin leaping under the moon.

  
I had just gotten out of the shower and was in the process of dressing when the phone rang.  
With a grumble, I wrapped the towel around my waist and stumbled across the room to answer it. Who would be calling at two AM in the morning? My broker was asleep, and so was my boss. I hoped.  
"Âlo?"  
The voice on the other end was not French.  
"Ah…Mr. BeauSeigneur?"  
My brain switched from French to English in two seconds and I answered smoothly. "Speaking. Who's calling, please?"  
"Um…" There was a slight pause. "Sir, I don't know if you know me. My name is Jeff Cotorro…"  
He trailed off, and I frowned. I knew no Cotorros. A business associate? A stock broker? "I'm sorry. I don't…"  
There was a long moment in which my brain simply froze and then slowly began to function again. "Jeff? Jeff Cotorro?"  
"Yes, sir. I-"  
"Amiboshi?"  
Silence. Then a long breath. ""Nakago-sama."  
"Where are you?" I demanded.  
"New York. You?"  
"Paris."  
Another sigh, as if he had been holding his breath. "Nakago-sama, I-"  
"Don't call me that," I cut him off. "Just Nakago is fine. Or Stephan. Whichever you prefer." My legs weren't quite steady and I sat down on the edge of my bed, gripping the table for support. "I was wondering if you would call."  
"Yui-sama called and gave me your phone number…she suggested that I call you." A pause. "No, rather, she strongly hinted that I should call you."  
I couldn't help but smile at that. "Yui-sama can be quite forceful sometimes."  
"I agree."  
A long silence. It was too strange, Amiboshi on one end of the line and me on the other, I who had been a tyrant in our past lives, who had issued the orders that had almost killed him.  
"What do you do? For a living, I mean." I winced. The words didn't come out quite right.  
"I'm a professional flutist. I play for the New York Philharmonic."  
Jeff Cotorro…"I think I've heard of you," I said. "Your name has been in my readings quite a few times."  
He laughed. "Only if you read classical publications."  
"I do."  
"Oh." He sounded taken aback, a bit wary, as if he might be punished for that statement. Old habits were hard to break. And we didn't know each other. "What-what do you do?"  
"I'm a businessman. I travel back and forth…mostly between France and the United States."  
"I see."  
Silence again. I frowned, thinking. I could hear his soft breathing over the other end.  
"How much do you…remember? Amiboshi?"  
He didn't ask what I was talking about.  
"I remember everything." His voice was flat, the voice of someone who would have preferred not to remember anything.  
"So do I. Does it hurt?"  
"Nakago-sama?"  
"Does it hurt? Remembering."  
I could hear him catch his breath.  
"Sometimes it does."  
The long silence this time was heavy with unspoken words and memories. I was Stephan BeauSeigneur, and I was Nakago. Just as he was both Jeff Cotorro and Amiboshi. How could it be, two people existing within one? Or was I the same and had just been transported to a different dimension, a different time, to make the same mistakes over again?  
I didn't blame Amiboshi for his wariness and not wanting to talk to me. After all, I was-had been-Nakago. I had been the second most powerful man in Kutou. I had been ruthless and unforgiving and unforgivable.  
I hoped I'd changed…for the better, I would assume. In my youth I had made mistakes, but I had done my best to rectify them. So I wouldn't ever become what Nakago had become in the end. I just had to let Amiboshi find that out for himself. And hope that I wasn't mistaken.  
"What were you calling for, Jeff?"  
"Is it too late to call?" He sounded worried. "It was really important, and I didn't want to disturb you if you were sleeping or something, but I knew I couldn't sleep unless I tried, and-"  
"Jeff. You're not. I was awake. What is it?"  
I heard him swallow.  
"I'm coming to France in a few weeks. I've been invited to teach music at one of the smaller conservatories in Paris…but I don't have a place to stay, and I was wondering if you would know of any good apartments or something..?"  
His voice was painfully hopeful and frightened all at once, and I couldn't help but frown. Whoever Jeff Cotorro might be now, part of him was still the too bright boy who I had sent off to die, such a long time ago.  
"I mean, I don't have that much money, and I heard that apartments in Paris are really expensive. So I-"  
"Jeff."  
The voice stopped.  
"You are welcome to stay here with me if you like. My apartment is big enough for two people, and it would be a welcome change from keeping company with myself."  
A minute of stunned shock. Then a small voice. "I-I can?"  
"Yes. I'd be glad to have you."  
"Nakago-sama, I-"  
"Don't call me that." I cut him off curtly. "I've told you. 'Stephan' is fine."  
"Are you sure? I have a lot of stuff, and I don't want to be a bother…"  
I almost smiled. "You're making it harder than it is. I told you I would be glad to have you over, and I meant it."  
I could almost see him blinking in confusion. "Th-thank you."  
"Don't mention it," I said. "When are you coming?"  
He gave me the information, then promised to call again when he had received the plane tickets. "They have them booked for me," he said, almost apologetically. "But I forgot to ask the times."  
"It's quite all right." Fifteen year old boy, I reminded myself.  
"Sorry to have bothered you…"  
"No bother. I've enjoyed talking to you. Call me later."  
"Yes, Nak-yes, Stephan." A silence. "That sounds funny."  
I laughed. "Good night, Jeff."  
"Good night."  
He hung up with a click and I slowly replaced the phone on its hook, stepping back into the bathroom to pull on a shirt and a pair of soft pants.  
_Yui-sama called and gave me your phone number…she suggested that I call you._  
I wondered where Yui was. She had not called me or written me since she, I assumed, left to go back to Japan. I wondered if she had found anyone else.  
Tomo, perhaps, or Suboshi? Even Miboshi and Ashitare. Amiboshi I already knew about. And Soi…  
Soi was dead.  
I couldn't believe it even now. It was if she'd suddenly step out of the doorway or come down the hall, calling my name, and it would be just a nightmare.  
_Nakago-sama, could you remove your armor for me?_  
I had never removed my armor for her. And then she had died. And then it had been too late.  
I wiped the water from the countertop and looked into the mirror. Blue eyes gazed back at my from under blond brows. A strong, straight nose. High cheekbones.  
I touched my forehead where my seishi symbol had once appeared. Funny how memories sometimes blended with the present and then became all jumbled up until nothing was real anymore. Or maybe nothing was ever real in the first place. I couldn't think. I was too tired.  
Too tired to even think about who was Stephan BeauSeigneur and who was Seiryuu shichi seishi Nakago, or maybe if I was both or neither or somewhere in between.  
Reaching out two fingers, I touched my reflection gently in the glass, like liquid tears. 

  



	2. Koori : Ice

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_
**KOORI:ICE**

_In all history, there is not instance of a country having benefited from prolonged warfare. Only one who knows the disastrous effects of a long war can realize the supreme importance of rapidity in bringing it to a close._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

"And you're not letting Miaka cook."  
Taka fixed me with a stare that would have frozen molten lava, and I held up my hands. "Ok, ok, she's not cooking. I'll cook."  
"IIE!"  
"I'm not that bad a cook. Tetsuya is much worse than-"  
"Keisuke," Taka said patiently. "I think the whole Yuuki family has some disease that prevents them from tasting food properly. I will cook. You will sit out in the living room and entertain the guests when they get here."  
"Whatever." I held up my hands in defeat. "It's your house. Don't get so worked up about a little party."  
Taka didn't reply, already heading back through the door to the kitchen. I sighed and backtracked my steps to the living room, where Miaka and Tetsuya were engrossed in a battle of Nintendo 64 on the battered TV.  
"Oh, hello Oniichan-TETSUYA!"  
"Taka's cooking," I remarked, seating myself on one of the worn sofas. Tetsuya threw his controller on the floor.  
"I can't believe I just got beat by a high school student."  
Miaka giggled. "Want some chocolate?"  
"Iie."  
Tetsuya looked at his watch, then up at the clock on the wall. "They should be here soon," he said. "It's almost six thirty."  
I heard the ragged edge to his voice, as well as he tried to hide it. I had never understood why exactly he and Yui had broken up, just heard the simple fact from him when they arrived back in Japan a few months ago. That Yui had left him. That Yui had a new boyfriend.  
The boyfriend was supposed to be coming here tonight, supposed to be in Japan for a few weeks visting, and Yui had invited him over to the party with the rest of us. I'd never taken Yui for the type to play around, yet the new boyfriend was someone she'd apparently met in America on the trip. How long had that been? A month? Two? Strange. A summer flirt Yui certainly was not.  
Tetsuya hadn't given me the details and I had never been the type to pry. Yet the shadows behind his eyes when we all went out together…the certain quality in his voice when he spoke her name, all seemed to signify that something deeper than simple miscommunication had pulled them apart.  
After all, they'd been together for two years.  
Yui did seem happier after the trip. She smiled more now, laughed and joked with Miaka like they used to before she became Seiryuu no Miko. She smiled when she spoke about her new boyfriend, who was a college student in the United States studying engineering. About how proud she was of him. About how it was the right choice to make. Not caring if Tetsuya heard her comments or not, and I was surprised he wasn't more hurt by them.  
I'd asked him once, and he had just shrugged. "It's her choice," he had said. "Her life. I want her to be happy."  
After a while, I had given up trying to figure it out and just accepted it. It was too strange.  
The doorbell rang.  
"I'll get it." I pushed myself off the couch and unlocked the door, pulling it open.  
A young man, brown haired, gray eyed, stood there carrying an elaborate gift-wrapped package, smiling uncertainly as he saw me. He was dressed in a t-shirt and jeans.  
"Hello? Is this the Sukinami residence?"  
I grinned. "Yup. Professor Duke Prio, I assume?"  
He reached out to shake my hand. "Yes. And you are…?"  
"Yuuki Keisuke. Nice to meet you."  
His face cleared. "Miaka's brother?"  
"CHIRIKO!"  
Miaka grabbed the astonished boy in a fierce hug. "You came!"  
"I got done grading essays early today, so I decided to drop by. This is your brother?"  
I nodded. "Guilty as charged."  
"ONIIchan."  
I grinned. "Yes?"  
Miaka escorted Duke into the house and I went into the kitchen to get him a soft drink. The air was full of strange vapors and odors, and I wrinkled my nose.  
"Taka? What's that smell?"  
"Herbs, you idiot. And DON'T TOUCH THAT!"  
I hurriedly snatched my hand away from the lid of an interesting looking pot. "What are you cooking?"  
Taka wiped the sweat away from his forehead, looking rather proud of himself. "Chinese. Doesn't it smell great?"  
"Uh, yeah."  
I was spared from a tongue-lashing comeback by the doorbell. When I emerged out into the foyer after handing Duke his drink, Miaka and Tetsuya had already opened the door. A grinning Andy stood there, holding a box of chocolates and a bunch of flowers.  
"Flowers!" Miaka clapped her hands. "How pretty!"  
Andy bowed slightly. "I bought them just for you. And I did manage to get away from the paparazzi for this evening. I hope."  
I rolled my eyes as my sister giggled and threw her arms around the pop star. She was still such a child, at seventeen.  
Andy caught my look and gave me a look of his own out of the corner of his eye. It was strange how we could understand each other. When he had been Hotohori and when I had only been a spectator of the events of the Shin Jin Ten Chi Sho, I had always felt awed by his presence, even in writing, as if even the mention of his name upon the page was reverent. Yet now he was the Suzaku seishi I felt closest to. I could tell him things I had never told Tetsuya, and he would understand. Because he was so much older than I was and had seen far too much in his short life than I ever would in mine.  
"Keisuke?"  
I blinked. Miaka had gone chattering into the kitchen to find a vase for the flowers. Tetsuya was glancing owishly around the living room.  
"What is it, Andy?"  
"I loved her once. You know that."  
I sighed. "I know, I know. Just-I wish she would grow up."  
There was something dark and blank behind his eyes and he patted me gently on the shoulder.  
"Keisuke…she is grown up. She'll never be a child again."  
He patted me on the arm again before brushing past me on the way to the living room. I didn't move for a moment, staring at the spot he had just vacated and felt that cold emptiness in my chest again like when Nakago had died.  
We had won, and I still felt so…empty.  
The doorbell rang.  
"I'll get it!" I called into the living room. Andy waved a hand in reply and I unlocked the door again with a smile pasted on my face.  
"Oh hello, Yui! And…"  
I trailed off. Yui looked older than her eighteen years, dressed in a soft flowery dress and holding a wrapped present. She smiled at me and I frowned slightly as I turned to the boy next to her.  
He was young and straw blond, with bluish-gray eyes. His smile was bright, though a little uncertain, and as he saw me, he flinched. My outstretched hand wavered as I looked into his eyes. There was fear hiding there.  
Why would he be afraid of me?  
"Hello," I ventured in English. "I'm Yuuki Keisuke. Miaka's brother. Pleased to meet you…?"  
"Steven," he said, finally reaching out to shake my hand. "Steven Grant."  
I shook hands with him, suddenly wary of his too-warm smile and Yui's worried eyes.  
"Miaka? Yui's here!"  
"YUI-CHAN!"  
I watched Yui hug Miaka as enthusiastically as my sister hugged her, watched as she tried to smile and glanced at Steven Grant out of the corner of her eye. Watched as Steven and she exchanged a look that spoke volumes.  
I shook my head. "Taka!"  
There was a muffled grunt from the kitchen.  
"The guests are here now!" I left the gathering and stuck my head in the kitchen door. The smoke had cleared and Taka was carefully adorning a dish of vegetables with oyster sauce. "You want to come out and greet some people before we eat?"  
He wiped his hands on a napkin, putting down the bottle, and followed me outside. The company was sitting in the living room, watching Tetsuya play Nintendo against Andy. Or rather, watching Tetsuya lose to Andy.  
"Steven? This is Taka, Miaka's…err…fiancé. Taka, this-"  
I broke off as Steven lept to his feet, brushing off Yui's warning arm. There was panic in his eyes and I watched in horrified confusion as he swallowed convulsively.  
"Tama…Tamahome?"  
I was standing on that crowded street again and hearing the cries of my sister in my ears and seeing the flying ryuuseisui spinning through the air like a stray globe of light, hearing the sickening thud as it crunched through flesh and bone and saw the blood spurt as he fell so far down. So far.  
_Yui…sama. A…ni…ki…_  
Taka's eyes widened and his hand went slowly to his mouth. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears.  
"_Suboshi?_"

  
"At ease, Captain Cartwright. Have a seat."  
The lieutenant colonel was short and stocky, like an older version of myself. His grip when we shook hands was still strong and firm, and I waited for him to take his seat before I seated myself on one of the worn leather chairs of his office.  
"They tell me you're an excellent fuels manager."  
I tried to look modest. "I do my best, sir."  
The colonel's smile was understanding. "Don't we all. The papers I have on you here-" he gestured to a stack of paper stacked neatly on the corner of the desk, like a perfectly ordered rectangle-"have you down as the top maintenance officer of Mildenhall Air Base. That says a lot, Captain. You have done an excellent job with your flight."  
"Thank you, sir."  
"Therefore…"the colonel trailed off, adjusting his glasses. The "therefore" didn't sound too good.  
"It's imperative that we keep good officers where we need them most. And Mildenhall has plenty of good fuels officers. Our bases in Asia, however, have a present shortage."  
I could see where this was going.  
"Based on your past experiences, you would have no problems adjusting to a different culture. So with that thought in mind, your next permanent change of station will be to Yokota Air Base, Japan."  
I blinked.  
"Yes, sir." What else was there to say? I was not going to argue with a lieutenant colonel.  
"You will be commander of the fuels flight of the 374th Airlift Wing. Your credentials are excellent, and I'm sure I don't have to tell you how to do your job. Isn't that right, Captain Cartwright?"  
"Yes, sir."  
"This is a lifetime opportunity, Captain. Most people never even have the chance to vacation in Japan, much less live there. Yokota is about twenty-eight miles distance from Tokyo, and you will have plenty of time to sightsee, I promise you."  
I tried to smile. "Thank you, sir."  
"I'll have your paperwork sent over immediately. PCS to another country is more complicated, as you well know, so it might take a while to process."  
"When do I leave, sir?"  
"In a week and a half."  
My mouth opened, but no sound came out. The colonel looked apologetic.  
"I'm sorry for the short notice, but the Yokota Fuels flight commander recently had a serious accident and will be retiring soon. You were slated to replace him, but not before next year. I regret to have you hurry to Japan like this."  
"Yes, sir."  
I reported out and tried not to look too upset as I walked down the corridor back outside. The sun shone fitfully, covered by clouds, and I walked slowly back to my office. I had no objection to going to Japan, but I would have appreciated it if I had known about this earlier. Permanent change of station was not an easy thing to process, especially PCS to another country, and I had just laid down plans for another year at Mildenhall, at least, with my leave scheduled and a new structure in the chain of command of my flight.  
The military was a bureaucracy, no matter how Command tried to disguise it. A meddling bureaucracy with all the politics and all the mess of civilian affairs.  
"Hey, Phil."  
I glanced up, adjusting my flight cap in the breeze. Captain Sanchez, the flight commander of one of the maintenance flights. I raised my hand in greeting, hoping he wouldn't come talk to me. The man could talk for hours about the most trivial subjects.  
No luck. He was heading over my way, falling into step beside me.  
"Where are you headed?"  
I shrugged. "Back to work. You?"  
"Just got back from the gym and took a shower. Have you had lunch yet?"  
I nodded sourly. "Just got back from lunch and reporting in with the lieutenant colonel."  
Sanchez sucked in a breath. "How'd that go? Were you in trouble?"  
I shook my head. "Just PCS. Japan."  
"Japan!" Sanchez looked admiring. "Oh, fuels flight commander?"  
I gave him a dark look. "How did you know?"  
"Oh, I knew Captain Heinz injured his right eye about a week ago, and you were slated to replace him." He saw my frown. "You didn't know?"  
"Not about the replacement, no. It seems I'm always the last one to know these things."  
Sanchez looked consoling. "That's how it is. When I got transferred here to Mildenhall, they gave me the paperwork before telling me where I was actually going."  
"Insane. They could have just found some other fuels flight commander at Yokota. Or even at the other two bases. It's not that hard, is it?"  
Sanchez grinned. "They want you, man. You're good."  
"Good at paperwork, maybe."  
"It's more than that. You have the teamwork thing down. Most flight commanders are still working at it. Me included. You have talent."  
I shrugged. "Maybe."  
"You're just bitter." Sanchez patted me on the back and pulled the door of Maintenance open for me. "Think about it. Japan! The chance of a lifetime!"  
"That's what the lieutenant colonel said."  
"It's true! Opportunity, man! Japan is as exotic as you can get. You can meet some good people over there. And I heard the Japanese girls are pretty good looking." He smirked. "It's time you got to know some females, instead of spending your whole day up in that stuffy office of yours."  
I saw in my mind the profile of a young girl, eyes shadowed with pain, voice frosty and cold.  
_I'll never forgive her, Nakago-sama._  
"Yeah," I murmured. "That too."

  
As we sat down at the dinner table, I felt seven pairs of eyes on me and it was hard not to cower in my seat.  
I had told Yui I shouldn't go. Told her I didn't want to go, because even though I had taken four years of Japanese and could function fine at a party or a gathering, I would not be welcome.  
"No one will know," she said. "You don't look like Suboshi anymore."  
"That's not the point," I said. "I'll know. And I'll have to tell them."  
She had convinced me after all, as I knew she would. I'd put up a convincing argument, but we both knew I'd go anyway. It was just one of those things. We'd been together only a few months, but it seemed like more than a lifetime.  
In some strange way, it was.  
But she hadn't told me that Tamahome would be there.  
The shock in his face, the pain in his eyes, was enough to bring it all back for me. When I thought my aniki had died, and the horrible empty loneliness and furious anger that I had felt. Those children, screaming, falling in their own wet blood. And then Tamahome as he came running up the path to greet a family that was no longer there.  
I had forgotten.  
He was known as Taka now, but it was the same Tamahome that I had almost killed twice. The same Tamahome that had almost killed me twice.  
That final duel was still hazy in my mind, and I still wasn't quite sure what had actually happened. The ryuuseisui was the only thing in my memory, and Yui's bow as I clutched it when I fell. Speaking my aniki's name…  
The dinner table was quiet with the sort of quiet that would sooner or later degenerate into a shouting match. I could feel Yui's stiff muscles beneath the touch of my hand, and Taka glared at me from across the table from beneath green-black hair. The meal was starting to cool, yet no one had moved to start eating.  
I had to do something.  
"Taka."  
He blinked in surprise, then narrowed his eyes. I stood up from the table, pushing my chair back.  
"Would you come with me?"  
"Where to?' he growled. Yui looked at me in alarm, and I patted her hand.  
"Somewhere private."  
I gestured to him to walk ahead of me. It was his house, after all, but he kept glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, as if I would suddenly whip out a hidden ryuuseisui and take my revenge after all these years.  
We stopped at the glass doors of a small study and he gestured me in, he following and closing the doors before turning to face me. His whole stance spoke of attack.  
"What do you want, Suboshi?"  
His voice was molten fire and unbreakable ice at the same time, and I held up my hands.  
"Taka. Listen. I'm not Suboshi anymore."  
"The hell you aren't!" he spat, hands curling into fists. "You recognized me, didn't you? You're the bastard who killed my family and almost killed Miaka and me. You made a damn mess of my life, and now you think you can just show up and waltz into my house anyway you please?"  
"Taka-"  
"You did something to Yui, didn't you? To make her trust you? You tricked her!"  
"Taka, listen. I-"  
"Don't you tell me your lies! I won't hear them!"  
I grabbed his wrists. "Taka. LISTEN TO ME."  
He clamped his mouth shut and glared at me. I was shocked by the venom in that gaze. Tamahome had been a gentle person, quick to listen and always willing to help. At least when I had watched him with Yui and then Miaka. Had Taka changed?  
"I'm NOT Suboshi. Just like you're not Tamahome anymore. We were reborn, Taka."  
"That-"  
"I'm sorry about your family. I really am. If I could die again to reclaim all those lives I took, I would, believe me. But we were reborn for a reason, and I don't believe the gods would let this happen if we were to start old feuds all over again."  
"You still killed my family."  
"I'm SORRY, Taka. How many times do I have to say it? I thought you had killed my brother, and so I killed yours. But it was the wrong thing to do, and trust me, I regret it a million times over. Why do you think I saved your life?"  
He had opened his mouth to respond, then shut it with a snap. There was a long moment of silence.  
"Nani?"  
"You don't think that ryuuseisui stopped on its own, do you? It would have hit you, Taka. But I had taken enough lives. I didn't want to take yours. You had a purpose and a destiny and a girl to love. I didn't have anything anymore…I just wanted to find peace. Someway."  
I trailed off, feeling that aching in my chest again. Tried to blink away the tears. I didn't want to talk about this, but if it was the only way, then I would bring it up.  
"I was stupid, Taka. Forgive me."  
His eyes were wide and dark and the anger had drained away, leaving something confused and lost.  
"I…" he said. "I didn't realize."  
The old hate still tinted his voice but I could hear him calming down. _Please, Taka. Listen._  
"I want to say I'm sorry. For everything. You know, it's not easy having a girlfriend in Japan and explaining to everyone why exactly I'd start dating a girl the day I met her, and a foreign girl at that. My parents had a fit. But Yui-sama…Yui…she's changed too. And so have I. And so have you."  
He nodded grudgingly. "Yes."  
"Can you forgive me?"  
He didn't say anything.  
"At least say we won't argue in public? Give our friends a nice dinner together? I'm going back to America next week. I want Yui to have something nice to remember."  
Taka was silent a moment longer, then I saw his head go up and down once, grudgingly.  
"Taka?"  
"All right, Steven," he said quietly. "We won't argue. Not in public. I don't know if I've forgiven you yet, and I don't know if I ever will. But for Miaka's sake…and for Yui's…"  
"I understand."  
He gave me another long searching look, then opened the door, leaving the room without a backward glance. I took a long breath, blew it out, looking after him.  
_Ah, Tamahome. When will you understand?_  
It wasn't much. But it was a start.

  
I'd almost forgotten what moving in felt like.  
Stephan had to work the day I arrived in Paris, so he had "someone" pick me up at the airport with my bags upon bags of belongings and take me back to his flat. I had no idea that "someone" would be his personal butler. I had no idea that Stephan BeauSeigneur was so wealthy.  
Of course, that shouldn't have surprised me. He had been the second most powerful man in Kutou, after all.  
The flat was roomy and comfortable, and the butler directed me to a second bedroom that had been obviously set up for me. I deposited my bags next to the full sized bed and looked around. Decorated in blue, simply and yet tastefully. The French seemed to have a knack for that kind of thing.  
"If you need anything, Mr. Cortorro, just press this button."  
I waved the butler off, tipping him. I hope Stephan didn't mind me tipping his servants. I was a poor musician, and not used to this kind of service. It felt like a hotel.  
Suddenly, I missed my dirty apartment with the piles of laundry and unwashed dishes. Missed the lights of New York and the sun setting over the city skyline. I even missed the blinking green light of my answering machine, meaning that Marcie had called me yet again while I was out at quintet practice.  
Ah, well.  
I unpacked as best as I could, stuffing clothes into drawers and piling music books on the small desk. I had to remember to ask Stephan for some kind of shelf where I could store my extensive library. Placed my flute carefully on the desk after making sure it was still in one piece. Unfolded my stand and took out the expensive metronome my parents had gotten me for Christmas. They were just the kind of people to give a metronome to someone for a Christmas present, and I suppose I had needed one anyhow.  
I looked at the soft bed and considered taking a nap, then decided against it. I should probably be awake when Stephan came home.  
Stephan.  
I'd called my parents and told them my living arrangements, not able to hide the hesitation in my voice every time I said his name.  
_You seem nervous, dear,_ my mother had said over the phone.  
The butterflies were working in my stomach again and I felt a strange twisting in my gut. This was the man who had almost killed me, had as well killed my brother, had used every and all of us to his own ends, and yet I was to be living with him for the next few months of my mortal existence.  
Damn well I was nervous.  
The key clicked in the front door lock. I swallowed.  
Footsteps in the front hallway. Someone taking off a coat.  
"Merci, François."  
That deep voice. The inflection. It had to be him.  
I heard him murmur something else to his butler, and then his slow, measured footsteps coming closer. I grasped onto the doorframe for support.  
And then he rounded the corner and our eyes met.  
He looked the same, though dressed in an expensive business suit. Blond hair, kept slightly long, blue eyes cold as ice. I could almost see the symbol of Seiryuu blazing on his forehead. We stared at each other for a moment.  
"Hello, Jeff."  
"H-Hello." My muscles were frozen and I couldn't move.  
He moved quickly, coming forward into the doorway, holding out his hand. "Shake my hand."  
I gaped at him.  
A slight smile appeared on his face, but it wasn't mocking, just understanding and friendly…and a little sad. "Shake my hand. Isn't that what they do in America?"  
My flustered brain finally processed that he was offering his hand to me and I grasped it with my own numb one, moving it up and down. "Nakago-sama."  
"Don't call me that." The warning note was in his voice, but it wasn't the deadly note I remembered from long past.  
"All right…Stephan."  
He smiled then-actually smiled!-and released my hand. "When did you get here?"  
"About an hour ago." I looked down at my watch. "Yes, an hour. Your butler picked me up."  
Stephan cast a glance back where the butler had been standing in the hall. "He's a good man, François. He's been working for me for a while."  
"I see." The words sounded lame in my own ears, but I couldn't think of what else to say. My palms were sweating.  
"Jeff."  
His voice was gentle and I looked up to meet his blue gaze. The ice was gone, and in its place was a man.  
"I'm not Nakago anymore, you know."  
"Wh…what?"  
His gaze held mine, and he leaned against the wall, not breaking eye contact.  
"You don't have to be afraid of me. I'm not the man I was. I made a lot of mistakes…and I hope you can forgive me for it. That I can show you that I have changed."  
I didn't answer.  
"Can you at least give me a chance? Amiboshi? So we can break the ice? So we can start over?"  
There was a pleading note in his voice that I'd never heard before, and it threw me off guard. Everything he was saying was throwing me off guard, and I didn't like it.  
"I-"  
"Please."  
I looked into those blue eyes, proud and yet humble, stern and yet hopeful.  
_Nakago-sama…_  
He wasn't Nakago anymore. Just as I wasn't Amiboshi anymore. Maybe it was time to move on, to know the people we had both become. Maybe for once, he was telling the truth.  
Shunkaku had always trusted. Even if he was betrayed, he trusted and he loved and he gave so much. If I could be like him, if I could start to be like him…  
I'd do it for Shun. Just as I'd always done everything. I wasn't Amiboshi anymore, and he wasn't Suboshi anymore, if he even existed in this world. But I'd still do it for him, because he had wanted to believe in something good beyond what we had known. That the world really would turn out to be a better place.  
And someday maybe I would find him and he would be proud of me, just as I was always ever so proud of him.  
This time, I held out my hand and watched as the blue eyes watched me in turn, wary and not daring to hope.  
"Shake my hand," I said. "Isn't that what they do in America?"  
To my surprise, I saw tears in his eyes.  
"Thank you, Amiboshi," he said, as the palm of his hand met mine.  
"My name," I said, "is Jeff Cotorro."

  



	3. Iwa : Stone

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**IWA:STONE**

_In war, then, let your great object be victory, not lengthy campaigns. Thus it maybe known that the leader of armies is the arbiter of the people's fate, the man on whom it depends whether the nation shall be in peace or in peril._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

That night, I was plagued by dreams.  
There were wolves in my dream, running like water, fur coats streaks of ice in the moonlight. They came up, noses sniffing inquisitively, warily, and I reached out to touch them. I felt no fear.  
_Free._  
The moon was full and bright in the sky and the scent of the hunt was in the air along with the smell of fresh fallen snow, and something in me strained after them as they fled far over the hills, calling.  
_Free.  
Why are you frightened, brother?_  
I looked into my mind and saw images of fire and water and ice and then I looked into my heart and saw stone.  
_I want to be free.  
Free.  
I don't know what it's like…to be free._  
Far away, the wolves howled.

  
"Yui?"  
Steven's voice sounded crackly and strange over the phone. He had gone home two days ago, back to college, and I had strain my ears to make out his words.  
"Yes? Sorry, the connection's bad."  
"I know." He sounded apologetic. "Long distance here isn't the best."  
"What did you want to know?"  
"Uh…" I could hear a trace of the old Suboshi in his voice. Not a good sign.  
"Come on. Spit it out."  
"I was wondering…if you'd heard from my brother."  
I winced. I knew it was coming sooner or later…there was no avoiding it this time.  
"No."  
The confusion in his voice was audible. "But I thought you said you were going to call him."  
"I did," I said. "Every time I called him, he wasn't home and I left a message on his answering machine. But he never called me back."  
It was true. I didn't know why. I wasn't calling the wrong number…the message clearly stated cheerfully that this was Jeff and Mike's apartment, and to please leave a message after the beep, which I dutifully did. I called once every few days, just to make sure. I knew Steven was counting on me. But Jeff never called back.  
"I-"  
"You want me to give you his phone number?" Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? "You can call him."  
"But, I…o-okay," he agreed, as I reached for the small notebook in my desk drawer.  
I read out the number twice for him and waited for him to copy it down. When he indicated he was finished, I stuffed the book back into my drawer.  
"Steven, I have to go. I need to finish my homework and then I have a meeting."  
"Okay. Wait, Yui-"  
I heard the panic in his voice again. "Yes?"  
There was a silence. "Yui…Yui-sama…"  
I clutched the phone with both hands. "Steven, what's wrong?"  
"What if…what if aniki doesn't answer?" His voice dropped to a pained whisper. "What if…he's dead?"  
His voice cracked on the last word and I felt like crying. "Suboshi, he's not dead. I believe he's not dead. He's alive, and he's waiting for you. Somewhere."  
"I-" A frustrated sigh. "I wish I-"  
"Steven, call him."  
I could almost see him on the other end, not wanting to hang up, eyes large and wide and full of tears.  
_My aniki. They killed my aniki._  
"I love you, Yui."  
There was a click and the line went dead. I was still holding the phone to my ear, feeling my heart pounding.  
My fault. It was all my fault. I had driven Suboshi to this, and these were the consequences. If only I…if only I…  
"I love you, Steven."

  
"Did you ever wonder why exactly we were reborn?"  
I glanced up at Stephan. His profile was highlighted by the setting sun sparkling on golden hair, strong nose and chin. As I watched, he sipped some of the wine from his wine glass, leaning back in his chair. The wine sparkled too, golden and rich.  
I remember the day he called me in to tell me I was going to Konan. His hair had been golden in the light of the many candles that blazed in that small chamber, and when I emerged, Shun was waiting for me, his hair golden in the candlelight also, but a darker gold.  
_What did he say, aniki? Where are you going?_  
"What?"  
"Why we were reborn," Stephan said patiently again, sipping the wine. The sun dipped lower behind the skyscrapers. "Why we were arrested out of the depraved and utter darkness of eternal damnation and given new wings."  
I stared at him. "Uh…"  
He laughed suddenly. "No, I'm not drunk yet. I read that line out of a book once. I can't remember the title, but it stuck with me, for some reason."  
"I see," I murmured, taking a sip of my water. I had never really cared for wine. I supposed Stephan was different, being French, but I couldn't understand how people could drink the stuff. It tasted like sewer water mixed with ground rocks.  
"Seriously, Jeff."  
"You're asking me?"  
"I want to know." He put down the wine and stared at me, blue eyes shrouded in the sunset. "What do you think?"  
I sat back in my chair, chin in my hand. "What do I think? About why we were reborn? I…I don't know. I haven't really thought about it, I guess."  
"You should," he said earnestly.  
"Well if you've thought so much, what do you think?" The words coming out of my mouth startled me. I would have never dared used that tone, those words with Nakago. But Stephen only smiled wryly.  
"You don't want to know."  
"Now I'm curious."  
He didn't answer for a moment, and I thought maybe somehow I'd offended him. Then he shifted in his chair, looking away from me.  
"I used to think," he said in a low voice, "that Seiryuu had brought me back to make me suffer."  
Hands clenched on the wooden armrests of the chair. "To suffer for all the sins of my past life…for worshipping Tenkou instead of my true god. For everything I'd done."  
He turned back towards me again, but stared at the tabletop, twisting his large hands in front of him. "I wasn't a very good seishi, was I, Amiboshi? I had everything, but I wanted more. And more."  
"It wasn't your fault."  
He laughed hollowly. "Easy for you to say. How did you feel, when you were running from those Suzaku seishi after they found out you had betrayed them? How did you feel towards me?"  
I bit my lip.  
"See? You may be quick to forgive, but there are some things that you just cannot forget. And even being reborn, there are some things that can't be righted."  
"It doesn't matter," I said.  
He was still staring at the tabletop. "What?"  
"It doesn't matter. We…" I paused, not quite sure how to say what I was thinking. Not quite sure what I was even thinking. "We're reborn. That's the key, Stephan. We're not the Seiryuu seishi anymore…it's over. You said it yourself, that first day. Second chances, remember?"  
Stephan didn't look up.  
I sighed softly, gathering up the dishes and taking them to the kitchen sink. The maid was nowhere in sight, but I missed doing the dishes, and the Paris sunset was gorgeous. The golden head stayed bowed the whole time the water ran and I scrubbed and rinsed and stacked.  
What could he be punishing himself for? I didn't know if Yui had found the other seishi, but I had received no word from her. She could be anywhere. But he certainly wasn't blaming her for not finding us all, and certainly not…  
And even being reborn, there are some things that can't be righted.  
I sucked in a breath. Looked at the figure sitting still at the kitchen table. Wondered if I should say it out loud.  
"It's Soi, isn't it?"  
The head came up and for a second the blue eyes blazed, and I took a step back. But he simply stared at me for a minute and then looked away.  
"I saw her, you know. A few years ago. I didn't know it was her." Not affirming what I had guessed, but not refuting it, either.  
That was news to me. "No," I said cautiously. "I didn't know."  
"I was still new in the business world…just out of college and looking for adventure. I tried everything…I'd been a junkie in high school and part of college before I realized it was either straighten out or lose my degree. I smoked, I drank…I slept around. It was the thing to do, in Paris."  
I nodded, coming back around to sit at the table, listening to him.  
"I'd had a particularly wild night and most of my friends had already departed with various ladies of the club. I wasn't planning on picking up anyone that night, before I saw her. She just appeared next to me and I looked at her and it was…as if something…clicked into place."  
"You didn't remember her?"  
"I didn't remember anything. I didn't until I saw Yui in New York. Soi…it was Soi. It had to have been Soi. She had the same red hair, the same features. She felt the same. That aura…I'd know her anywhere. Even if I didn't know her. You know what I mean?"  
"Yes."  
"It was funny, because as soon as I took her I knew something was wrong. She didn't act like the other women I'd been with over the past few months…I could tell I was hurting her for some reason, but I didn't stop. I wanted pleasure for me. Always for me…"  
"Soi loved you."  
"I know," he said quietly, folding his hands in front of him. "She was the other half of me. But I couldn't love her. Because…"  
He trailed off. I watched him as he ran his fingers through his thick blond hair.  
"Because everyone I loved…they died."  
Something knotted within me.  
"I think I've always loved Soi. And she's dead now. She never even received her second chance. Half of me…it's gone."  
"Nakago-sama…"  
Suddenly, the blue eyes blazed again. Fingers curled into a fist and crashed on the table. I flinched and the wood shook.  
"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!"  
He was gone, a whirlwind packed into the frame of a man, stalking from the room and slamming the door behind him in a rare show of temper. I gripped the armrests of my chair hard to stop my hands from shaking.  
_It's like…half of me was suddenly ripped away._  
Outside there were birds flying against the amethyst-tinted storm clouds on which the setting sun rode like sailboat upon rough waters.  
_No. More like the half of me that was lost has come back._

  
When Marco Bocelli invited me home for a drink, there was more than a little hesitation in his voice. But we had to start from somewhere, right?  
There was no one home when his battered roadster pulled into the slightly rundown country house driveway, and when we stepped out I could immediately smell the difference in the air. The Bocelli residence was about forty-five minutes from the city, in a small farming community, and the stink of pollution and dirty humanity was non-existent here.  
"You feel it," Marco said when he saw my reaction. "Out here, it is so free."  
The small house was built out of stone, as were the driveway and the walkways. I followed him inside, where a big white dog of uncertain origin greeted me by bounding up and giving me a huge lick on the cheek. I grimaced. I had never liked dogs. Marco simply laughed and batted the huge animal away.  
"Eva likes you," he said.  
"Great," I mumbled.  
He laughed again. It was strange, hearing him laugh. None of us had never laughed, and Ashitare probably never even knew the meaning of the word. But it was strangely liberating to hear it coming from Marco's throat, the big wolfish man with the delicate hands of an artist.  
"What would you like? We have many Italian wines."  
I waved a hand. "Whatever you choose. I have no preference."  
He looked at me strangely.  
"What?"  
"I do not remember you being this…free. You always had a preference."  
I twisted my lip. "That was a long time ago."  
He didn't say anything, just opened the door to the wine cellar and descended down into the darkness. Fitting.  
Marco reemerged with a darkish bottle of something and poured it into two wine glasses, handing one to me. I raised mine in a silent toast, and he looked at me, questioning.  
"To what are you toasting?"  
I lowered my glass slightly. "To Seiryuu."  
He acknowledged with a slight lifting of his own, and we both drank. The wine was slightly sweet and sour all at once and went down smoothly.  
"Cheers," I said.  
"Cheers," he responded, smiling again.  
We stood for a few minutes in silence. I admired the view outside the back windows of green fields and vegetation. Greece was beautiful, but in a rough and graceful and mysterious sort of way. Italy was simply lush and green and verdant.  
"Sorry for calling you on such short notice," I said at last. "My company scheduled this performance at the last minute, and I just thought maybe we should meet…"  
I trailed off as he looked up.  
"It's quite all right," Marco said calmly. "I was a bit surprised when you called, that's all."  
Surprised wasn't the least of it. The Italian had been shocked when I'd said I was Seiryuu shichi seishi Tomo. I smiled at the memory. It had been awkward, the initial conversation. It had gotten better, but I couldn't help feeling I was an intruder into a wolf's domain.  
"What are you thinking?"  
I shook my head slowly. "Only that I feel like I'm trespassing."  
He put down his glass and looked at me curiously. "What do you mean?"  
"Like you belong here and I do not. Do you know what I mean?"  
Marco closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Trespassing."  
"Yes."  
"You're not trespassing," he said. "I feel the same way."  
That was a surprise. "You do? How?"  
He opened his eyes. "We don't belong here, Tomo. You can feel it, can you not? We're not meant to be here."  
I swallowed slowly. "Perhaps."  
"You don't believe me."  
"I've belonged."  
"I never have. There's something…calling me."  
The look in his eyes unnerved me and I put down my wine glass. Suddenly I itched for the feel of my shin in my hands.  
"We were Seiryuu shichi seishi, Tomo," he said. "We're trapped here."  
I rubbed my hand along my face, almost expecting to feel the paint beneath my fingertips.  
"My friend," I said calmly. "We have always been trapped."

  
I called that night.  
The phone rang. And rang. And rang.  
There was a click.  
"We're sorry. The number you are calling has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again, or, dial the operator."  
Another click.  
I sat there, the line dead in my hands, my mind a blank. It wasn't fair. Wasn't fair.  
I had waited a lifetime, and all I had gotten for my pains was a recorded voice.  
It was like those T-shirts.  
_I called my brother and all I got was this lousy T-shirt._  
_Aniki…you said you'd never leave me. Why didn't you come back to me?  
Let's stop fighting. Come with me…drink this. You can forget everything.  
Everything._  
I didn't even notice when I started to cry.

  



	4. Hi : Fire

Fate _Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**HI:FIRE**

_There are five ways of attacking with fire. The first is to burn soldiers in their camp; the second is to burn stores; the third is to burn baggage trains; the fourth is to burn arsenals and magazines; the fifth is to hurl dropping fire among the enemy._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

"Monseiur BeauSeigneur?"  
"Speaking," I answered in French. "Who is this?"  
"This is Pierre Clouveau, from your the company branch in Maine."  
"Of course," I maintained. Maine? Why would they be calling me?  
"You were scheduled to come to Maine tomorrow, were you not?"  
"Yes." I frowned, scooting my chair closer to the desk and rolling the mouse in little circles on the computer screen. "Is there a problem?"  
A dry chuckle. "No. In fact, Monseiur, there is in fact an absence of problem. You were called to come over to meet with one of our candidates, but the candidate decided to sign early and therefore your trip here has been moved."  
"Moved?" I didn't like the sound of that.  
"Yes. Tomorrow you will be going to Okinawa instead of to Maine."  
Silence.  
"Monsieur?"  
"Okinawa?"  
"Yes, Monseiur. There is a client there that wants to meet with you and I told him that you would be arriving tomorrow at your earliest possible convenience."  
"I see."  
"Do you object?"  
Object? Hell yes, I objected. I had prepared myself for a two day stay in Maine, had told Jeff exactly what to do in event of emergency or if he needed anything. The poor guy knew no French and he had already expressed discontent with me leaving for two days. A trip to Japan would take a week at least, and who knows what could happen in a week?  
"No. I will be glad to go."  
"Glad to hear it. I'll switch your tickets now and email you the new information."  
"Thank you."  
The other line clicked shut and I was left with the receiver in my hand, staring at the blue computer screen and wondering just when my life had become this complicated.  
"Well."  
A small poster fluttered down from the wall of my cubicle. It showed a man climbing a cliff, gear strapped on clinging tenaciously to the sheer, frozen sides of the giant.  
_Perseverance,_ it read. _What the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve._  
"Shit."

  
"Ah…Monsieur Cotorro? Monsieur!"  
I stopped in the hallway, flute case in one hand and stand in the other. "Yes?"  
The little old woman hurrying up to me looked more like a secretary than a world-famous oboist, She was waving to me frantically and I smiled despite myself. With her polka-dotted skirt and bright red top, she looked exactly like an old lady from a eighties film noir movie.  
"Staff wants to see you as soon as possible."  
I retraced my steps down the hallway of offices, wondering what the staff of the college wanted with me now. They had just called me in two hours ago to fill out some forms, with the aid of a translator, since I could not understand a word of French.  
Which was a problem.  
Stephan was leaving for Maine tomorrow and I still wasn't sure I could manage the city of Paris by myself. Sure, most vendors spoke English, but I still felt out of place asking directions and hoping the one I was asking could understand. It was embarrassing.  
I spoke Spanish and English and a little Gaelic, but French had never been one of my strong points.  
I turned and retraced my steps down the red-tiled hallway to the staff officer. The spectacled receptionist was on the phone and the copy machine was humming. It felt like a dentist's office. Glancing around and making sure no staff member was out to get me for now, I lowered himself into one of the small chairs and picked up a music magazine off the center table.  
A cough.  
"Monsieur Cotorro?"  
I looked up warily. Dark eyes gazed back at me out of a severely lined face and hair pulled back into a tight bun. The face of the principle academy flutist was not pleased.  
"Monsieur Cotorro," she said in her heavily accented English. "We must talk."  
I blinked at her for a second. Talk? I didn't like the sound of that. This talk was probably not about me being spot promoted to principle flutist, and outside that topic, I would rather not talk with the principle flutist in any way.  
The office was freezing, and the fact that it was nearing November and the first snows had arrived the day before did nothing to warm the bleak room. I felt my nose starting to run and fished in my pockets for a kleenex. A few coins. A pad of cigarette paper. No kleenex.  
Just my luck.  
"Please have a sit."  
I smothered my laughter at her English and sat down in one of the hard metal chairs in front of her desk. The principle flutist sat as well, looking for all the world like a librarian instead of one of the best musicians in the city of Paris. She folded her hands in front of her. I felt like I was a prisoner of war in an interrogation cell.  
"This may be sudden, Monsieur, but we have suddenly developed a need for musicians in Japan. The board has nominated you to be one of the flutists at the music school in Tokyo."  
The clock's ticking suddenly became very loud in the silence, and I took a deep breath, counted to ten before I opened my mouth. It took a few more seconds before my vocal cords would actually vibrate enough for speech to be attempted.  
"Why yes, Madame. This is a bit sudden."  
She didn't catch the caustic tone in my voice. All for the better.  
"Of course, but it is for the best. If you choose to go, you will be one of the pioneers in our school…"  
I let her ramble on, not catching half of what she was saying in her heavy accent. I had heard of the opening of the music school in Tokyo for a while-it had been in the conservatory news almost daily-but I'd never thought I'd actually be traveling to Japan. All I wanted was to stay in Paris, maybe learn a little French, relax in Stephan's spacious apartment, and basically be lazy for a year or two.  
I deserved this break.  
"Do you accept?"  
I really needed this break. Stephan would be in Maine…I could take a few days off…go explore the Parisian night life, have a beer or two, pick up some French girls. Well, maybe not. Even lying on my bed and flipping channels was sounding good.  
"You may have several days to reflect upon the matter. Do not have worry, Monseiur, we will not-"  
There was a flash of blue light through the window and I swore I could see the reflection of scales upon the glass.  
A pull. Seishi to seishi to miko to god.  
"I'll do it," I said suddenly. "Count me in. Whatever."  
Her words stopped in mid-sentence, and now it was her turn to stare at me in stunned silence. The expression on her face was actually quite comical and I couldn't help but laugh.  
"This is no laughing matter, Monseiur Cotorro!" Her voice was sharp and cutting. Dark eyes glared at me.  
"No…" I choked out between convulsions. "I'm not laughing at that. Honestly."  
She didn't look convinced. "This is one of the most daring things we have ever done. It is a great step in the history of music. It is imperative that you understand this."  
"I understand," I said, calmly now. My mind felt like it had suddenly gone numb in the last five seconds and yet I didn't take back my words. It seemed only natural that I would be leaving Paris only a few weeks after I had arrived, flying to Japan. Nothing out of the ordinary.  
It was that pull. I had felt it before. When Nakago had sent me off to die.  
"I'm ready, Madame," I said. "Anything you want to throw at me, I can take."  
She looked at me as if I had gone insane.  
To tell the truth, I wasn't entirely sure I hadn't.

  
I was standing in the kitchen washing the dishes, listening to Taka fiddle with the radio as it fizzled in and out with static fuzzing at the edges.  
"We need a new one," he muttered, staring out the window darkly. "This thing sucks."  
"Well then," I said calmly, wiping my hands. "Get one."  
"They're expensive!"  
"You're just cheap."  
He didn't reply, just muttered to himself and returned to fiddling with the knobs. I suppressed a smile. No matter what he called himself now, Taka had not changed.  
"Stingy."  
He glared at me.  
I laughed, watching him, his dark head bent over the ancient piece of electronics, hands gently twisting the knobs on the front. He was a man down to the very definition of a man, stubborn, strong, passionate, gentle, kind, loving.  
My good mood faded away as quickly as it had come. Miaka was lucky to have Taka. It wasn't every day that a man like him came down from heaven and landed in a girl's lap. Literally. Well, it was more like Miaka had landed in his lap, but it was all the same to them.  
Steven had phoned me, explaining in a broken voice that Jeff's line didn't seem to exist anymore. I had tried calling, and had gotten the same electronic voice. I didn't understand. First answering machine calls that were never returned, then a disconnected phone line. It was like Amiboshi had disappeared off the face of the earth.  
I heard the panic in Steven's voice when I talked to him just three days ago, and I could well understand why. It was happening all over again, he thought, his aniki leaving him alone, disappearing into the wilderness of the world without a trace. But this time, he might lose his brother before he had ever found him in the first place.  
I was afraid for Steven, afraid that he would suddenly revert back into the little lost boy that Suboshi had been. In the hopelessness of his voice, I knew he remembered everything with a vivid clarity that frightened both him and me. And it was the possibility that everything might just happen all over again that was the most frightening of all.  
I didn't need another Shin Jin Ten Chi Sho.  
I wanted it to be over. Forever.  
"There!"  
Taka's triumphant shout reverberated through the kitchen and I rolled my eyes.  
"Taka, it's a radio."  
"I FIXED it!"  
The authoritative voice of the local news station weatherman rolled into the sunny kitchen.  
"A typhoon warning is in effect for all local areas, including Tokyo. Typhoon Hikaru is heading north from Taiwan and could strike Japanese shores in a day or less. More information upcoming."  
Taka peered out the window at the sky. "It looks fine to me."  
"Baka."  
The phone rang. Taka lunged for it. "I got it!"  
I heard Miaka's voice across the house. "I got it! I got it!"  
"Moshi moshi?"  
I watched as Taka listened for a few moments, then as his expression grew puzzled. "Ah." He took his ear from the receiver and he looked a little panicked as he handed the phone to me.  
"Yui, it's for you. It's in English. I can't speak English!"  
I couldn't help snickering as I took the receiver from him. "Hello?"  
"Yui Hongou?"  
"Speaking . Who is calling, please?"  
"Yui, this is Phillip Cartwright. Remember me?"  
"Phillip!" I was grinning. From the corner of my eye I could see Taka frowning at me, but I didn't care. "Where are you?"  
"You'll never believe this,": came the crackly voice from the other end of the line. "But I'm about 28 miles from where you are."  
The words took a few seconds to sink in. "You're in Japan?"  
"Right on!" He sounded pleased with himself. "I got transferred to Yokota Air Force Base. Just arrived yesterday and in the process of setting up the office."  
"That's great!" Taka was frowning in earnest at me now. I felt giddy. Phillip was here, in Japan. "Can you come visit? Can you get off base?"  
He sounded dubious. "I don't know Japanese."  
"I can come pick you up! My boyfriend has a car. Well, ex-boyfriend." I grimaced as I tried to cover my slip. "My current boyfriend lives in America."  
"Ex-boyfriend? Wait a minute. America?"  
I grimaced again. "Long story. I'll tell you when I see you, all right? It has to do with…I'll tell you later." Taka's presence in the kitchen suddenly seemed ominous.  
"I have to run," he said suddenly. "I just wanted to call you…it's a local call now, you know that? Not international anymore. Does wonders for my phone bill."  
"Yes. Thank you. Call me later when you can come visit," I said, almost giggling. I really was turning into Miaka.  
"I will."  
A click as he hung up and I slipped the phone back on the hook, turning around to see Taka with his hands on his hips. His face demanded an explanation.  
"Yes?"  
"Care to tell me what that was all about?"  
There were footsteps in the hallway and Miaka was at the kitchen, bounding to Taka's side. "Yui-chan! I heard you laughing! Who was it?"  
Apparently me laughing was unheard of these days.  
I looked over at them: Taka's serious face and Miaka's smiling, cheerful one. What did they have that I didn't? What had they done right that hadn't?  
It was a great mystery.  
"Yui, what's going on?"  
Well. I had known it would come sooner or later, and there was no putting it off now. Suzaku and Seiryuu had to meet sometime, right? Better I tell them than they find out from someone…say…Phillip Cartwright.  
Miboshi.  
"Taka? Miaka? I think you'd better sit down." I sat on one of the padded kitchen chairs and watched as they warily did the same. Miaka was looking curious now, and Taka simply looked grim.  
"This could take a while."

  
The map on the wall flickered out of existence as the commercial break clicked on. I clattered down the stairs of the stage. The huge golden news station symbol gleamed on the wall.  
"That went well," the assistant cameraman said, giving me a smile. I smiled back.  
"That typhoon isn't looking too good," said Yuan from the far wall where she was sitting. Yuan was the new weather assistant, fresh out of school, long black hair tied up in a bun, liquid brown eyes giving her the look of an innocent deer. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five.  
"It's not." I reached my seat, took a drink of water. "If it continues this way, it's going to hit Tokyo."  
"Should we issue a warning?"  
I shook my head. "We have a few days wait."  
"I just don't want a disaster on our hands, Hong."  
"Don't worry," I soothed. "It will be fine. It will probably veer out east in a few days anyway."  
The intercom squealed. "Hong Lee, call on line one."  
Who could be calling me at this hour? I flashed a quick wave to the crew clustered around the news desk and then made my way to the outer lobby. A secretary sitting at the desk indicated a free phone, and I picked it up, hoping it wasn't the credit card company. I had been overdue on my payment for about three months now.  
"Hong Lee speaking."  
"Hey, this is Andy Wong."  
"Andy!"  
"How are you?"  
"I'm wonderful," I said, grinning. "I haven't heard from you in forever."  
"It's great to talk to you too. Listen, I can't talk long, but I was just wondering if maybe you were interested in a trip to Japan. I'm going to be touring there, and I wanted to visit Miaka and Taka and Duke."  
"When?"  
"Next few days sound good? Sorry this is short notice, but Pedro was visiting in Portugal and he was going to fly to Hong Kong and then we were going to go, but he had an emergency at home and so he had to go back to Brazil."  
I smiled. It would be nice to see Miaka and Taka again. "So I'm backup choice, right?"  
Andy laughed. "Something like that. Are you in?"  
They wouldn't be needing me for the next week of work. Yuan could fill in…she had the training. It was time I took a vacation.  
"I'm in,' I said, and then couldn't resist adding, "No da."  
Andy laughed again. "You know what, Chichiri? You look a hell of a lot better without the mask."  
"I know." A thought struck me. "Do you think Denis would be interested? He's coming to Beijing tomorrow on some business."  
"Denislav?" Andy chuckled. "Where would we be without our red-headed bandit? Sure, call him and invite him. I'll pay for the plane. It's a private charter anyway."  
"I'll tell him then. I have to get back to my station."  
"I understand," Andy said. "I'll call you tonight if I have the chance. Good talking to you, Hong."  
"You too."  
I handed the phone back to the receptionist. That typhoon was really not looking good. A trip to Japan right now might not be the best of plans.  
I'd always been too cautious.  
_Get out, Hong. Have some fun. Stop being so serious._  
That was it. I needed to stop being so serious. A trip to Japan would do me good.  
I stopped halfway to the door to the station room, retraced my steps to the receptionists' counter, and picked up the phone to call Denis.

  
The bonfire crackled high and I lowered myself onto the sandy gravel, sitting just close enough that the leaping flames warmed my skin and bathed the surrounding area in a surreal orange glow.  
Footsteps crunched next to me and a shape settled itself next to mine out of the shadows.  
"Marco," I said by way of greeting.  
"Nikolas," he said in return. I smelled the aroma of freshly roasted meat and looked over to see him biting into a large drumstick.  
"Good," he said, when he saw my look. "You want one? They are free over at the meat stand."  
I shook my head. 'I'm not hungry just yet. Maybe later."  
We sat in silence for a while, listening to the happy laughter of other performers and festival patrons and the strains of faint music coming from the night beyond.  
"Where are you going after this?" Marco said, polishing off his drumstick. "Today was the last day of the Greek Festival, was it not?"  
I nodded. "Might just go back to Greece. Markos has this crazy idea in his head to tour in Eastern Europe and Asia, but I doubt it. It's too expensive and I don't think Asians appreciate Greek drama too much."  
"It would be nice to go to Japan," Marco said wistfully. I caught the hidden meaning in his voice.  
"Yes," I said. "It would." Someday.  
Nakago was in France. I was not sure I wanted to see him again. I didn't know if I loved him anymore…how could I love a man I had never seen? I had not heard his voice in a lifetime. I wanted to see him.  
"You're thinking about Nakago-sama, aren't you?"  
I jumped. "How did you know?" I demanded, my private pride damaged.  
Marco just laughed. "Wolves have sharp senses."  
"You're not a wolf."  
His expression grew serious and with one swift motion he threw the gnawed drumstick bone into the bonfire. It sparked before subsiding, becoming a part of the great blaze.  
"I dream, Nikolas."  
I didn't ask him what he meant.  
There were footsteps by me again and but I didn't look up, seeing the pair of worn patent leather schoolboy shoes come into focus.  
"Evening, Markos."  
"So you want to go to Japan?"  
I blinked.  
"Who said anything about Japan?"  
"I did," he said cheerfully, squatting and grinning at me and Marco, who was looking at both of us with a smile. "I called around and there's some club or organization at the University of Tokyo who would love to see us perform. The pay's not bad either."  
I sighed. "Markos, how are we getting there?"  
He shrugged. "We have money for plane tickets. I hope."  
"We barely have enough after what we made in Italy!"  
"We'll use that then."  
"You're insane."  
"Don't tell me you don't want to go."  
I fumed in silence, knowing he had me there, and he laughed. "See?"  
"Damn it, Markos, this isn't a game. We're a company and we need to carry on business like a company. This isn't some one-man show."  
"Of course it's not," he said earnestly, clapping me on the shoulder. "I'm consulting you, aren't it?"  
I rolled my eyes, unable to think of a suitable caustic reply, and he laughed again and stood up. "We're leaving tomorrow for Japan. I booked the tickets a few days ago. They have special company rates, you know. We got priority."  
I watched in silence as his form faded into the darkness again, watched the bonfire spark and leap.  
"I suppose you are going."  
"Well of course I'm going," I muttered. "I have no choice, do I?"  
"Good. Then I won't be alone."  
"Ye-What?"  
I turned to look at Marco. The man had a conspiratorial gleam in his eye.  
"Your Markos invited me along to be prop director. We finished our work on the Sistene Chapel so we are free. And I wanted to go to Japan. I felt like I had to go."  
"You too, huh?" I murmured.  
He nodded, eyes glittering. "Seishi to miko to god. That's how it has always been, hasn't it? Fate."  
I sighed, the sound blending with the whispering of the wind and the roar of the fire. The endless cycle. The unbreakable chain.  
"I know. I can't help think that sometimes we are just pieces on a game board. For the gods to move at will."  
Marco cocked his head. "What makes you think that we are not?"  
I shook my head slowly. "Nothing. Just sometimes…I wish I did not believe in fate. I wish my life were mine to live."  
In the fire I could see my life unraveling before me.  
"That's all."

  



	5. Kaze : Wind

Fate _Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**KAZE:WIND**

_He who is skilled in attack flashes forth from the topmost heights of heaven, making it impossible for the enemy to guard against him. This being so, the places that he shall attack are precisely those that the enemy cannot defend..._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

It was windy when I stepped off the plane at the Tokyo airport. I could hear the moaning of the rushing air against the swaying landing ramp. I steadied myself against the wall, trying to keep my balance.  
"Come on, Nikolas. It's not that windy."  
I glared at Markos' back as he brushed past me, headed towards the gate. The rest of the troupe hauled their bags past me without a glance. I closed my eyes and sighed.  
"Nikolas?"  
Marco's voice was questioning in my ear. "Are you coming?"  
"Yeah, yeah." I lifted my bag. "Was trying to catch my breath, that's all."  
The waiting area was large and the troupe had already gathered in one corner, where Markos was handing out hotel arrangements. I already knew I was staying with Marco Bocelli. No one else wanted to stay with the strange Italian man; and I did not blame them.  
Outside, the sky was cloudy, occasionally clearing in fitful bursts of sunshine, then whipping against itself in gusts of wind. Marco noted my look.  
"They predict a typhoon," he said. "I listened to the weather report earlier."  
"Great," I muttered.  
"Nikolas? You say something?"  
"No."  
Markos went back to his dictating and I stared moodily out the window. What I wouldn't give now to see the sparkling oceans of Greece and the dolphins jumping out of the water. To feel the soft dirt beneath my feet. Even to breathe the smoky air of pollution in the industrial part of Athens where I lived. To sink down in the sagging springs of my old bed mattress. Japan was nice, but it just wasn't home.  
I had Yui's phone number in my pocket. I had wrestled with myself whether or not to call her. I wasn't sure if she would be happy to see me again, and Marco had not brought up the subject. In the meantime, I suppose I would wrestle with myself some more until I finally had the nerve to do it. It was just a matter of time.  
We had been brought to Japan for a reason, and fate was working.  
"Nikolas?"  
I blinked. The other actors had gathered their bags and were looking expectantly at me. I sighed and picked up mine.  
"We going to the hotel?"  
"We're going to the train station," Markos said. "We need to register at the University first."  
"Oh."  
"Don't you ever listen?"  
The sky was still cloudy when we emerged out from the airport. Train transportation was crowded and I resorted to standing in the aisle, holding on to the pole with one hand, and trying to balance my duffel bag in the other. The bag was heavy, and it was starting to slip to the right, onto the head of an old woman who rode with her eyes closed, blissfully unaware of the disaster that was about to drop on her from above.  
"May I help you sir?"  
The voice was of a young man, and the face that appeared next to mine could hardly have been more than sixteen. He was obviously American.  
"Yes, please," I said in English, shoving down my pride. There were some things in life that couldn't be gotten around without some sort of help. "I'm sorry for you to bother."  
"No bother, sir," he said politely. With some grunting from both of us, we righted the bag, and he extended his hand. "Duke Prio. Professor at Tokyo University, English."  
I shook his hand, the strange custom still bewildering me. "Nikolas Seferlis. Stage performer." Then his words hit me. "Professor?"  
He smiled. "I don't look it, do I?"  
I looked him up and down, taking in his youthful, innocent face, his tennis shoes and backwards baseball cap and t-shirt. "How old are you?"  
"I'm seventeen. I graduated from college two years ago." The words were spoken without any sort of boasting. It was the truth, so he told me the facts. "I'm the youngest professor on tenure at the University. Which has its perks, I'd have to admit." An almost angelic smile graced his face.  
"I can imagine," I said. A child genius, then.  
"Nikolas! This is our stop!"  
I stared at the boy again. There was something very familiar about him, though I couldn't pinpoint it. Not so much the face as of the sense. He couldn't possibly be another Seiryuu seishi…Yui had found all of them. But if not, then who?  
The train screeched to a stop and I lost sight of Duke in the crowd exiting through the narrow doors. When I was safely off, I scanned the crowd for a reddish head and innocent eyes, but the crushing mob was too thick. Perhaps he was still on the train.  
"What are you looking for?" Marcos was by my side, looking out towards the crowd.  
I shook my head. "Nothing."  
"That boy on the bus," he persisted. "Who was he?"  
I hadn't known he had seen me talking with Duke Prio. Marcos had been on the other side of the bus. The wolf senses must be sharp.  
"I don't know," I said truthfully. Marcos glanced at me, as if knowing I was hiding something, then shrugged.  
"We should go. The group is already outside."  
I followed him unwillingly up the steps out of the train station passageway. Looking back for a moment I thought I spotted a flash of copper colored hair, a boy's smile, a sense of familiarity.  
But when I blinked, it was gone.

  
The wind was picking up when we arrived at our hotel. I managed to get out of the cab, dragging my bags out of the seat, and tipping the driver. Beside me, Denis growled, his red hair whipping into his eyes.  
"This was not a good idea."  
"Blame Andy," I said, slamming the door and watching the taxi hurtle away into the oncoming storm wind. "It was his brainchild."  
The hotel was nice enough, nice enough for a popular teenage idol and pop star to consider staying in for a week. I expected us to be over at Taka's house for most of the time, but it never hurt to have a place to stay just in case. The rooms were clean and bright, suites for each of us. As a traveling reporter I had seen all kinds of hotel rooms, but Denis was visibly impressed with the accommodations.  
After I had convinced him that no, he had not really died and gone to bandit heaven, I unpacked a little and then called him out of his room to go find a place to eat. I had only been in Tokyo twice, but the small noodle shops on the side of the streets were a favorite of mine. Denis did not look particularly interested when I told him my choice, but then again he had never been in Tokyo before. And he was used to me dragging him around on my "escapades," as he liked to call them.  
The shop I chose was small and well-lighted. I had come here once before with Miaka and Taka and Andy, a few months back when I was in Tokyo to cover a minor earthquake. Luckily my friends' house had gotten off untouched, though parts of the city had not.  
"The power of Suzaku," Taka said when I had asked him. I had to agree. Even after death, the red phoenix god of Konan was still looking after his chosen ones.  
As we ordered our noodles and sipped our (at Denis' urging) sake, I wondered if the Seiryuu seishi were around. If they had survived. If they had been given a second chance, as we had. It was strange to think of them, after all this time.  
I asked Denis, and he smirked, flame-red hair sweeping around his head. "You crazy, Hong? The damn bastards are probably rotting in hell, where they belong!"  
"Shhh! It's a restaurant, Denis!"  
Amber eyes regarded me thoughtfully. "Seriously…you're not really thinking about that, are you? Be glad they're dead." He shivered, expression growing distant.  
"I…I don't know."  
"Hong?"  
I thought of Soi, her sacrifice. Tomo's death there high on the lonely clifftops of Sairou, with the moon as his only silent witness. Of Amiboshi and the smile on his face as he fell slowly below to the river which swept him away. Of Nakago and the painful cry of the dragon I had heard in my ears when he had crumpled to the ground.  
Of Suboshi and the woman he had so desperately loved.  
There were flower petals in the air.  
The waiter arrived with our noodles, but I wasn't hungry anymore, staring out the shop window at the roiling clouds. Denis followed my gaze.  
"Doesn't look so good, does it?"  
I shook my head. "It's that typhoon. This was a bad time to come."  
"So you agree with me."  
I glared at him, but my heart was not in it. It was the same…the same as when Yui had called Seiryuu for the first time, the rolling clouds above green and blue and gray and heavy black, moving like a living thing in tortured spirals.  
_Kaijin._  
A feeling struck me, deep inside my chest, and I gasped, bending over.  
"Hong…what's wrong?"  
"I feel…cold."  
Denis rushed to my side, holding me up. I could feel the stares of the other shop patrons, murmured concern.  
"Hong! Speak to me!"  
I swallowed, concentrated, fought back the ice until I felt under control enough to sit up. "I'm all right. A pain in my chest."  
"Do you need to go to the hospital? I can-"  
I waved off his concern. The restaurant manager was hurrying over, and I indicated I was all right.  
"It's not that kind of pain." I smiled weakly at Denis. "I have enough of my memories to know the difference."  
I watched as he frowned, puzzled, then as his eyes widened in understanding. "Something's happening? Miaka? Taka?" He jumped up from his seat, spraying soup everywhere. I rolled my eyes.  
"Denis! Nothing is wrong…..yet. I-"  
I stopped. Turned my head. Blinked.  
"Hong?"  
I had sworn I had seen a tall figure and a flash of blond hair in the streetlights, but maybe it was just my imagination…  
They could have turned down that street there. The cold feeling followed me. I felt a pull.  
"Denis, get up. We're going hunting."

  
I walked with Jeff down the streets of Tokyo, both of us feeling ill at ease. Neither of us spoke any amount of Japanese. Jeff seemed the worse off, slim form huddled in his coat, trying to escape the wind which was rapidly picking up around us. The radio had said something about a typhoon.  
"Stephan…"  
"What is it?" I said absently, looking around at the bright lights, so like and unlike New York and Paris. The major cities of the world. I could say I had been to another one now.  
"Are you hungry?"  
I glanced down at him. He was looking rather pale, and shivering.  
I placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Jeff, are you all right?"  
"I…I feel cold."  
I indicated my own coat, and he shook his head. "Not like that. Cold…cold….you understand?" He pointed to his chest, an indication of a feeling spreading through his body.  
I nodded slowly. "Do you know why?"  
"I…"  
"Come on, Jeff." I turned him around, back to where we came. "There was a noodle shop on the corner. Maybe we can get some food there and warm up, and then you can tell me."  
He nodded, not speaking, and we retraced our steps back towards the intersection, going slowly. Pedestrians shot us odd looks as we passed. I ignored them.  
Jeff was shaking by the time we reached the mouth of the intersection and the walk light was red. I steadied him with an arm around his shoulders, trying to shelter him as best as I could from the wind that was now beating at our backs. Wondered who would be this insane to go out on a night like this.  
The walk light blinked and we started crossing. There were only two other people crossing from the other side, striding as if they were in a hurry. I couldn't see their features in the flashing lights.  
Jeff stopped.  
"Jeff?" I pulled at him. His eyes were huge, ghastly, staring straight at the two who were appraoaching across from us.  
I saw them. Red hair, almond shaped eyes. I could imagine the tessen in his hand, his wild expression as the fire poured from heaven. The other had changed, but his aura remained the same. An aura of magic and power and things unknown and unspoken.  
They had stopped, too. Jeff took a step forward, out of my supporting grasp. The traffic noises dimmed in my ears and the light seemed to fade. I felt cold.  
A whisper from the one who had once called himself Chichiri, Suzaku shichi seishi, echoing as loudly in my ears as any shout ever could.  
"Nakago…You came back…?"

  
Marco and I had thrown our things into our room and decided to roam around the hotel a bit. I had asked Markos if he wanted us back any time soon, and he shook his head, laughing.  
"Go anywhere you want. We're having a meeting tomorrow morning at eight, but until then it's all yours." His hand had clapped my shoulder. "Have fun, Nikolas. You need it."  
I glared at him as he walked away and Marco grinned wryly.  
"You two have an odd relationship."  
I grunted. "It's that love-hate thing. I don't know why I put up with it."  
Marco regarded me as I turned back to him, and I frowned. "What?"  
"You love him?"  
I blinked. "Oh! No, not like that! He is a friend….a good friend, but just a friend. I-"  
"You still love Nakago, then."  
It was said matter-of-factly, calmly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to say. My stunned expression simply made him smile gently.  
"How-How did you-"  
"A wolf is more observant than you would think, Tomo-sama."  
I shook my head, starting to walk down the hall towards the elevators. Marco followed me, saying nothing. I don't think I could have taken it if he had decided to pursue the subject further. It was something I had not thought about. Did not want to think about, because it would bring me only pain.  
The elevator stopped at the bottom floor and we exited, looking around. There was some sort of formal function going on in the ballroom across the hall. The sign was in Japanese.  
"What does it say, Nikolas?"  
" 'Military Ball,' " I read slowly. " 'Officers of Yokota Air Force Base, Japan.' "  
Marco blinked. "I did not know there was an Air Force Base here."  
"Just a short distance from Tokyo," an American voice said over our shoulders.  
I turned around to get a better look at the newcomer. He was short, stocky, dressed in military mess dress, long elegant blue coat with silver ranks on the shoulderboards and black bow tie contrasting smartly against white starched shirt. I held out my hand, remembering the American custom.  
"Nikolas Seferlis. And you are…?"  
He stared at me. I could see Marcos frowning.  
"Tomo?"  
I felt my mouth drop open in shock. The officer's eyes were wide and he backed away a few steps, still staring. "Tomo? Is it you?"  
"Who are you?" I demanded.  
"My name is Captain Phillip Cartwright…but I think you knew me by a different name….Seiryuu shichi seishi Miboshi."  
The world spun around me and the lights of the hall dazzled my eyes.  
"You are Tomo…aren't you?" His voice was urgent, pleading.  
Marco's hand on my shoulder steadied me. "He is Tomo," he said, "And I am Ashitare."  
The shock I expected from Phillip Cartwright was there. "Ashitare?"  
Marco smiled. "You did not expect that, did you?"  
The officer's mouth worked a few times, and he shook his head. The poor man was about to go into shock. I removed Marco's hand from my shoulder, feeling the familiar sardonic tone come into my voice as I spoke, taking his big hand in my own to shake it firmly.  
"It's a long way from home, Phillip. We're glad you could come."

  
I called Steven that night.  
Miaka and Taka had gone to bed already, though it was only ten o' clock. Outside the darkened window, the wind howled in the clouded night sky. I could not see the moon.  
They had taken the news better than I expected, about my seishi and theirs probably meeting in the world at some point and time. After all, Taka had already met Suboshi and it had not gone as badly as it could have.  
I hoped.  
I had a dream last night about the end of the world, a great flood and a powerful storm and that Tokyo was falling down. I heard Steven calling my name but I could not see him, the voices of my other seishi crying out in terror. And the distant roar of a dragon.  
When I awoke, the absence of sunlight had weighed down upon the room like death.  
"Steven, this is Yui."  
"Hi." He sounded tired, drained.  
"Did I wake you up?"  
"No…I was studying. Physics. It always makes me tired."  
I tried to smile. "Listen, Steven. Do you mind coming over here for a couple of days?"  
Silence on the other end. "Why do you ask that?"  
"I…I don't know. Something. Call it a premonition."  
"I don't know if I can get out of school for this…."  
"You have a plane ticket to Tokyo, right?"  
"I was going to use it next week though. I don't know if they'll let me switch."  
"They will."  
"You're so sure?"  
"I'm sure."  
He sighed. "Yui…look…I…"  
I cut him off. "Don't explain. You can explain when you get here. I'll explain when you get here. Please, just come."  
"I can't promise anything, Yui."  
"Please."  
"I need to study."  
I sighed. "Call me later."  
"I love you."  
I hung up. Outside the window there was terror and storm and death. Inside, there was only nothingness.  
I felt nothing. 

  



	6. Mizu : Water

Fate _Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**MIZU:WATER**

_When in difficult country, do not encamp. In country where high roads intersect, join hands with your allies. Do not linger in dangerously isolated positions. In hemmed-in situations, you must resort to stratagem. In a desperate position, you must fight._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

The last thing I remembered was the bright flash of headlights and the squeal of tires, someone screaming. Was I dead?  
The ceiling was white and smooth.  
"I think he's awake."  
The voice right by my ear startled me and I flinched. At least I tried. My body seemed slow, far away, like I was trapped in a room of sticky air, unable to move. I tried to move my arm again and there was a flash of pain.  
"He's awake…don't move!"  
A gentle hand on my forehead. I could feel it, but I couldn't move my head. I blinked. It was about all I could do.  
Footsteps fading. "I'll be waiting outside. You talk to him."  
"Stephan? Can you hear me?"  
I recognized the voice, saw the blond hair and concerned blue eyes bend over me, felt the cool hand feeling my forehead and then trailing down the side of my face.  
"Yui-sama…" Again I tried to move my head and failed. "Where am I?"  
"You're in the hospital." The hand went away and the lights dimmed a little bit. I felt like I was swimming in a sea of darkness and numb pain. "Don't you remember anything?"  
I struggled to recall the images out of the nothingness. "Not really. Something happened to me. Where's Jeff? What-"  
"Shhh." The hand was on my forehead again. "Don't try to move. The doctors just operated on you and you should be fine. Jeff's out in the lobby with…" She trailed off. "With some friends."  
"The Suzaku seishi."  
There was no question in my voice, just a flat statement. I remembered their faces in the dim streetlights and misty rain, faces from a thousand years ago and yet so familiar. And even if there had been the slightest doubt, I had felt their chi. The monk, the one called Chichiri, and his bandit companion. Two of the most deadly enemies I had ever encountered, and yet…  
"They saved your life, Stephan."  
"I don't remember anything." Trying to move my leg. It would not budge. I couldn't feel it. Shivers of slight panic crept up my spine. "How do you know? They are Suzaku, after all."  
I didn't mean for the words to come out in such a hostile tone. I could feel her silent displeasure in the darkness of the starched hospital room. Not a childish tantrum as she would have thrown when I knew her last, but a womanly sorrow.  
"They're not Suzaku anymore. Stephan-"  
"What happened, Yui?"  
"You were hit by a car."  
The words were gentle, but she didn't spare me the full impact. "From what Hong - Chichiri - told me, the four of you were standing the middle of the intersection...the car didn't see you and just hit you coming head-on…you were standing beside Jeff so he didn't get hit. Hong tried to push you out of the way, but he couldn't in time."  
"I see."  
"It was a hit-and-run. Denis called the ambulance and the police and Hong performed CPR on you….if he hadn't been there you would have probably died. They brought you to the hospital…Jeff is seriously distraught. We don't know what to do."  
"Jeff?" I frowned, then winced at the pain. "Why?"  
"He…he thinks it's his fault. That if he hadn't sensed the Suzaku, you would still be well."  
Something about the tone of her voice made me pause. "Yui? What do you mean 'well'?"  
Her face was shadowed. "I-"  
"Yui."  
"They…the doctor said…when the car hit you, you broke your neck."  
Silence.  
So that was it. Why I could not move, could not feel anything below my head and neck. Why I could not even turn my head to speak to the woman who had been my miko.  
It was all clear now. I didn't know why I hadn't realized it before. I was a cripple.  
_Gods…Seiryuu…_  
"Stephan, I-"  
I didn't feel anything. Not in my body, not in my mind.  
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"  
"Damn them."  
I could close my eyes. I could do that, but for some reason the tears would not stop coming. I never cried. I was a man, a soldier, a general. I never cried.  
Crippled.  
"Damn the Suzaku. Damn them all."  
Her tears dripped hot on my face and all I could do was let them mingle with mine, as I wept for my broken dreams gone awry and as she wept for me.  
"It's not their fault."  
"I know. It's not." I opened my eyes, staring at the shadowed ceiling. "Nothing is ever their fault, is it? It's always mine, or yours. Or ours. So damned cruel."  
"Stephan, I-"  
"What is it about the Suzaku that makes them so holy? Is it because theirs is the god of love and ours…mine…is that of war? Is it because they had everything and we had nothing, and there was nothing they could take away from us? Is it that they were happy?"  
I was not angry. I would never be angry again, just like I would never walk again. Some things were just like that now.  
I heard Yui turn away.  
"Don't say things like that."  
"Why not? It's true."  
"It's not-"  
"All I ever wanted was to be happy. If I hurt them it was because I only wanted that happiness and I hated them for it. Hated them for being all I wanted to be and more, hated them because they so easily had what I could never have. Do you understand?"  
"Yui."  
"Theirs was the god of love. I think…" She sighed once, slowly, quietly. "I think ours was the god of pain."  
"I knew love once." She looked at me, but I did not look at her. "And then all I knew was pain. How would your precious Suzaku seishi feel about that?"  
"They're not my Suzaku seishi."  
"You defend them like you were their miko instead of mine."  
"Hong saved your life!"  
"A small favor in return for the wrongs he's done me."  
She took a deep breath and I could tell she was trying hard not to say anything rash. It had always been a problem with her, but I had been stronger than she was, then. I was not so sure anymore.  
"Get some rest, Stephan. Talk to me when you feel better."  
"My thoughts will not change."  
"I know that." Her hand turned on the doorknob. "But give me some hope."  
If I could have laughed then, I would.  
"There is no such thing as hope."

  
I emerged into the fluorescent-lit lobby, and six pairs of feet hit the floor, six pairs of eyes trained on me. I didn't want to meet them.  
"Yui? How is he?"  
I kept my voice quiet.  
"He'll be all right."  
"Did you-"  
Jeff's voice was strained. I put my hand on his shoulder, keeping my touch gentle. I could feel the tense muscles under the sleeve.  
"I told him. I didn't get a chance to explain the therapy the doctors want him to try, though…"  
"It's ok." Hong's soft voice interrupted mine. He touched Jeff on the other shoulder, but the other seishi flinched away. "In this condition, I doubt he's in any mindset to hear anything."  
"You're probably right."  
I closed my eyes. I was tired, so very tired, and there was still so much to be done. Outside, the rain beat at the windowpanes. It had started coming down harder ever since the car accident. The harsh ceiling lights brought out every stark angle of our tired faces, every bead of cold sweat.  
"It's four o' clock in the morning."  
Denis' voice cut into my thoughts, and I glanced at my watch. We had been at the hospital for more than ten hours, and I was not planning on leaving anytime soon.  
"Hong…Denis…you guys can go home. I know you are tired."  
There were dark rings around Hong's eyes, but he shook his head. "I'm staying here. I'm not leaving until they tell us what is going to happen."  
"Nothing's going to happen. He's paralyzed from the neck down."  
Denis shook his head, wild red hair flipping about his face. "I don't believe it. Uh-uh. There's gotta be some mistake. It's Nakago…can't he at least heal himself with his powers or something? Yui?"  
"Guys. Go home."  
I didn't miss the defeated looks in their eyes, but I didn't take back my words. No matter what Miaka said, no matter what I thought…they were Suzaku, of the other side, and they were not the kind of support I needed right now.  
Hong understood. Cutting off Denis in mid-protest, he stood, placing his unread magazine back onto the pile on the tea table. "It will take a little longer getting to Taka's through the rain, but I will call you when we get there. You have your cell phone on?"  
I pulled it out, made sure it was charged, then nodded. "I'll be keeping it on."  
"All right then." Brown eyes regarded me thoughtfully, a little sadly. "Good night, Yui."  
"Good night." I paused before asking the next question. "Hong…do you think you can find everyone?"  
He didn't have to ask me what I meant. "I know Andy is staying downtown with some publicity people. I can wake him up. Duke should be easy to get ahold of also. Pedro is in Brazil…and I don't know where Nuriko is. Those are the only ones."  
"That's fine. Thank you, Hong."  
"Don't mention it." He gave me a small bow, tired eyes trying to smile. "Come on, Denis."  
Their footsteps faded through the doorway and Jeff shifted from his corpse-like position by the wall.  
"Yui-sama."  
"Don't call me that."  
"Will he be all right?"  
"Yes." I moved closer to him, putting my arms around him. So like Steven, yet so unlike. Amiboshi and Suboshi. "Don't worry about it Jeff. It wasn't your fault. He doesn't blame you."  
"I blame myself." His voice was choked. "If I hadn't-"  
"Jeff-"  
"-made him go back, and cross the intersection-"  
"-it wasn't-"  
"-he would still be all right. It's all my fault-"  
"-your fault-"  
"-like everything else-"  
"Jeff! Shut up!"  
My voice echoed loudly around the bare waiting room, and his wide eyes trained on me like the eyes of a hunted animal.  
"Oh…Jeff. I didn't mean it."  
He stood, frozen.  
"Please. I didn't mean it. If you want to talk to me, talk to me."  
"I…no."  
I pulled him close to me, hugged his stiff body with both arms as tightly as I could, burying my face in his rumpled shirt. I had no tears left.  
"Forgive me."  
"He'll never forgive me. Never."  
I shook my head against his chest. "Of course he will, Jeff. He doesn't even blame you. Don't think that way."  
We stood in silence for a long while as the wind outside picked up even more and the rain pelted harder, rattling the glass in the window. I wondered if Hong and Denis were even able to make it home. Finally, Jeff stirred, resting his head on top of mine.  
"All I want is my brother back. All I want…"  
I drew back from him, looking him in the face. He looked ghostly in the harsh light, aging thirty years in one night.  
"Jeff?"  
He frowned at me.  
"I've found your brother."

  
The noise that had startled me out of my well-deserved sleep had a distinctly familiar ring to it, and it took me only about twenty seconds to realize it was my bedside phone.  
I picked up the receiver, noting dimly that the time was 4:45 AM and it was far too early for anyone to be calling.  
"Hello?" I mumbled.  
"Phillip? This is Yui."  
I blinked. "Yui…Hongou Yui?"  
"Yes. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I have a slight emergency."  
She didn't sound too panicked, but then again, I was half-asleep. "What kind of emergency?"  
A long moment of silence, then a cough. "I can't say right now. Can you come to the Tokyo Downtown hospital as quickly as you can?"  
Hospital?  
"Yui, exactly how serious is this?"  
"Very."  
I could detect the tightness in her voice now. Something was definitely wrong. "I have staff meetings….but I suppose I could cancel them. Somehow."  
She sounded relieved and anxious at the same time. "Thank you so much, Phillip. I've got Jeff Cotorro - Amiboshi - here with me. Do you know if…"  
She trailed off, but I knew what she meant. "If there are any others of us?"  
"Yes."  
"As a matter of fact, you are in luck." I fumbled for the bedside light and scrabbled in the drawer for a sheet of paper. "Our illusionist and werewolf are here together from Italy. I have their number here if you want it."  
"Tomo and Ashitare?" Her voice trembled a little. "Yes! Please."  
I gave her the hotel number and my promise to be there as quickly as I could, then hung up the phone and collapsed back on the bed. I was wide awake now, wondering about this emergency that she couldn't tell me about, and noticing the wing moaning through the cracks of the officer's quarters.  
I padded to the window and looked out. Rain was pouring down thick and hard. The typhoon was here, and I was about to go out in it.  
How insane was that?  
I decided to leave the question hanging.

  
The rushing water was almost ankle-deep, and the car sloshed through the streets.  
"Duke's not answering his phone."  
"Asleep, most probably. Call his cell."  
"I did." Denis punched a few more buttons on the cell phone. "It's not on."  
"Forget it. Call Andy."  
The waters rose.

  
I felt more than saw Taka spring out of bed and look out the window.  
"Miaka, it's Hong and Denis. I wonder what they want at this hour? It's pouring outside!"  
I mumbled something.  
"Miaka! Come on, get out of bed!"  
"Nani…?"  
He sighed hard. "Never mind. Get out of bed and come out. It's not any condition for them to be driving…something's wrong."  
Taka flicked the light on and rushed out of the room, grabbing a bathrobe and slippers on the way. I sat up slowly, eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. The wind was making scratching noises at the window.  
I felt cold.

  
Jeff was asleep now, curled up in a little ball on the hard waiting room chair. I dialed the number Phillip had given me and hoped it was right.  
"Hello?"  
The voice sounded less than human, fuzzy with sleep and maybe more than a little alcohol. "Nikolas?"  
"This is he." He sounded awake at once. "Who is this?"  
"This is Hongou Yui." I gave him half a second for the information to sink in, then cut him off before he had a chance to speak. "Listen, I need you to come to the Tokyo Downtown hospital right now. It's an emergency."  
"I-"  
"Just come."  
I hung up.

  
"Hello? Hello? Moshi moshi?"  
I stared at the receiver, then cursed. Turned to the side and lobbed a pillow at the sleeping form in the other bed.  
"Marco, get up."  
He mumbled something.  
"We are leaving."  
He rolled over and stared at me, blinking sleep from his eyes. "You are crazy? Leaving where?"  
"Our Miko is calling."  
I could tell he understood at once. The wolf eyes were sharp, canine and yellowish in the dim light. He blinked once, twice, testing the air, then nodded.  
"Yes. It's raining."  
"So it is."  
I could hear the unhooked phone beeping as we left the room. I did not bother to hang it up. The phone could wait.  
"Marco? Is this fate?"

  
"Hong, it's five o' clock in the morning, and I-"  
"Andy, it's an emergency. Please. I need you over here now…" He paused. "There's something I need to tell you. All of you."  
Something he needed to tell me? The wind moaned outside. I could feel the room shaking with the impact.  
"Who is there?"  
"Miaka and Taka and Denis and me so far. We have tried to call Duke, but there is no response. I don't know where Nuriko - Joe - is…"  
"I know." I gave him a number, a twenty-four hour activated line, then crawled out of bed. "I'll be there as fast as I can. The rain is coming down hard."  
"I know. Thank you, Andy."  
I hung up. The rain sounded like the scratching of dragon's claws on the smooth glass.  
Something I need to tell you. All of you.  
For the first time since I had died, I felt true fear.

  
"-severe flooding in parts of the city and expected to continue through the day. Winds are rising at hurricane speed, causing-"  
I switched off the radio. It was six thirty in the morning, and still pitch black. The house shook. Miaka stirred next to me, holding my arm.  
"It's bad, Taka."  
I patted her on the back, trying to calm her. In the living room, the lights flickered. I could hear muffled exclamations from Denis and Andy. Hong was in the bedroom trying to reach Duke, and Joe had gone to change out of wet clothes.  
"Taka…I'm afraid."  
I sighed. "I know."  
It wasn't just the storm. It was the sense of impending doom, of approaching apocalypse, as if the gods had decided to revive the terrible war between nations all over again, right here in Tokyo.  
"I don't want to die."  
"Shh." I stroked her hair. "We're not going to die. We'll be all right."  
"Taka?"  
Hong's head peeking into the kitchen. "I got Duke. He was at the office…he'll try to make it in a few minutes. The subways aren't running, and he's going to have to walk though.."  
I gritted my teeth. "Dammit."  
"Do you want to tell him to-"  
"I don't want him walking. He'll get hurt…or drown…It's took dark to walk anyway."  
"I could take the car and chance it."  
I considered, then nodded. "Could you?"  
There was tension in the air as Hong picked up his car keys from the table. "I still have my chi…somewhat…and so does Chiriko. We'll be all right."  
"I hope so. When-"  
The doorbell rang. We jumped, then stared at each other.  
Denis' rough voice. "I'll get it!"  
The rain and wind intensified as he yanked the door open. I ran out of the kitchen in time to see a soaked figure stumble in to stand dripping on my carpet, as Denis wrestled the front door back into place. It shivered in its hinges.  
I frowned. The figure threw back the hood of its raincoat, and I gaped. Blue eyes, blond hair.  
"Steven?"  
"Is Yui here?" He sounded exhausted. Miaka rushed forward from my side to help him take off his soaking coat. He dropped his bags on the floor and stood looking at me with an indecipherable emotion in his eyes. Our feud from his last visit still stood between us, and I could feel it.  
"I didn't know you were coming."  
"Yui asked me to. I'm sorry. I would have given you sooner notice, but she wasn't at home and your house was the only other place I knew to come to." He glanced around, then started. Andy, Denis, and Hong were frowning at him from one side, and Joe had come down the stairs in curiosity.  
"Taka?" Andy took a step forward. "Is…is this…?" He stopped.  
I nodded.  
"Everyone…meet Steven Grant. He's from America…" I paused. "You knew him once. By another name."  
Joe started to say something, but Steven cut him off with the wave of a hand. He was still wet and dripping in the foyer, but the way he stood, it could have been seated on the back of a proud horse, powerful and sure.  
"I am Seiryuu shichi seishi Suboshi. Do you remember me?" 

  



	7. Chi : Earth

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**CHI:EARTH**

_The art of war recognizes nine varieties of ground: dispersive ground; facile ground; contentious ground; open ground; ground of intersecting highways; serious ground; difficult ground; hemmed-in ground; and desperate ground._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

_In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth._  
Remembering my childhood from so long ago, my small Sunday School class at church and my parents who would always make me go. I never wanted to go. None of my friends went to Sunday School. They called me sissy names, and I hated it.  
The room was dark and tubes hooked up to my body were tendrils of wet dragon's breath over my skin. There was no one there. The monitors beeped. I wanted to rip the tubes out of my skin, turn the damn beeping monitors on their sides with horrid crashes, destroy the room that held me prisoner.  
But I was a cripple.  
Damn the Suzaku.  
Damn Seiryuu.  
_Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters._  
Darkness. It had always been dark. There was no spirit of God, not of any god, for I had always been alone, no matter what they said in Sunday School. No matter what the Emperor of Kutou had ever told me, because even then I had been alone.  
And Soi was dead.  
_In the beginning…_  
It was raining.

  
"What's so important, anyway?"  
Miaka's nose was pressed to the glass, and I glanced at her. She looked unusually pale.  
"Miaka?"  
"It's raining."  
Her voice was a bare whisper above the howling wind that penetrated into the house even through the thick walls, and the rainwater was rapidly rising to flooding level. Surprisingly, I felt no fear. I suppose for someone who has faced death more times than most people could ever imagine and lived to tell about it, the thought of drowning was not really a concern for me anymore.  
"Miaka, there's no way Duke and Hong are going to make it in this. Tell him not to go. Tell him-"  
"He's already left. Besides, it's not my place, Taka."  
She looked so small and pale and cold. I took her hand. It was like ice.  
"You are the miko. You-"  
"I'm not the miko."  
I blinked. "Miaka?"  
"I'm not," she said, shaking her head, violently. Her brown hair, loose from the odango buns in her sleep, shivered around her. "Not anymore. I can't do anything. It's not me, do you understand? It's not me and it's not Yui. Calling the seishi. Not the storm. It's outside us." Her gaze returned to the darkness beyond the window. "Outside there."  
"I don't understand."  
"It's just going to get worse, Taka. People will die."  
I sighed, trying to remain calm. Suddenly the kitchen seemed dim and threatening. "It's a stupid typhoon, Miaka. We get them all the time."  
"Can you feel it, Taka?" She wasn't listening to me. "Can you feel the storm?" One hand went to her breast. "It's out there…and in here…it's coming from in here."  
For a brief moment, I thought I saw a red halo flicker around her. Just for a moment.  
"I'm…I'm so tired," she murmured. Her brown eyes met mine for a moment, and I saw pain there. And then she slumped to the floor.  
There was a hollow noise and suddenly I felt the floor shake. Rumbling. The ground quivered for a moment, then fell silent.  
"Miaka? Miaka!"  
Pounding footsteps as Denis and Andy came running.  
"What happened?"  
"She…I don't know." I bent down. "She's breathing. I don't know."  
We lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom, setting her down between the sheets. She didn't move. It was as if though she were dead.  
_Can you feel it, Taka? Can you feel the storm?_  
"Denis, Andy," I said. They looked at me, solemn, worried.  
"If there is any way on earth you can get through right now, call Pedro."

  
The car stalled again, and I reached over, sighing, to turn it off and restart it. The flooding in the streets was intense. If I hadn't promised Yui I would try tonight, I would not be out here.  
That was my problem…I promised too much, and I would never break a promise.  
There was a feeling in my heart that I couldn't ignore. That someone was going to die.  
Lightning streaked the skies, and the wind howled. The car shuddered. A thin trickle of fear crept up my spine and I pushed it aside. There was no time for fear now. I had a mission to accomplish.  
I had conquered my fears. I could no longer be afraid.  
_Hikou! I'll never let go!_  
My hand came loose from the steering wheel with a sharp jerk, and I blinked. Where had that come from?  
The car wouldn't start.  
_All I wanted…  
I'm sorry, Houjun. I can't marry you._  
I was gasping for breath. What was this? What were these images suddenly flickering before my eyes? It wasn't me. They weren't mine. Someone else's…someone's mistake.  
_Hikou! Grasp my hand! I won't let you go!_  
A flood, and sakura blossoms, a young girl and broken love, broken trust, broken life.  
Scars.  
The water rushed under the tires and I could feel the car loosing traction on the road. I heard a rumble, and the road shook.  
Earthquake!  
A creak as something came loose. And I was borne away on the tide of the flood.  
_Houjun!_  
Why hadn't I known this before? Why? Why couldn't I remember?  
I covered my eyes and in the darkness of the night, I screamed.

  
I felt like someone had hit me in the chest with a hammer and found my heart.  
Across the room, Andy made a noise, and Taka came running out of the bedroom.  
"You felt that, Denis?"  
I nodded. A pounding of feet as Joe came down the stairway, followed closely by Steven…Suboshi.  
"What happened?" he demanded.  
I closed my eyes.  
No.  
"I think Hong's in trouble."

  
Jeff sat quietly, not looking at me, and I couldn't help but feel I had made a great mistake. By not telling him sooner about Steven…by hiding the truth from him.  
I had never realized how close Amiboshi and Suboshi actually were. Guessed, but never realized.  
I was a bad miko.  
Hesitatantly, I touched his shoulder.  
"…Jeff?"  
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"  
There was no excuse. None. _I'm so sorry, Amiboshi…so sorry…_  
"I was afraid."  
Blue-gray eyes met mine, and instead of betrayal and condemnation, I saw only regret.  
"I understand," he said, one hand grasping mine.  
"I asked him to come to Tokyo…I don't know if he actually could make the flight today or not. It was a close time and it was probably already booked…"  
"Don't worry about it." He looked sad. "I'm sure I will see him…sometime…"  
"I'm sorry."  
To my surprise, he smiled. "Yui. Don't apologize so much. It doesn't change things."  
I had to smile back at that. "I know," I said. "I know all too well. Just…you deserve better. Than me. For a miko."  
He reached out to grasp my other hand. "Listen to me, Yui. You spend too much time putting yourself down." One hand reached out to his bag at the end of the sofa; the other was still entwined with my fingers. "We're all in this together, right? One miko and shichi seishi. Seven."  
I tried to smile. It was hard.  
"We might not have been the best seishi in the world, but it's different now. We will try. I promise you that."  
I closed my eyes, then opened them, looking down the hall towards a closed door, where the monitors were beeping softly and where someone lay silent and still inside a dark room.  
Jeff noticed my look and his hand moved inside the bag to pull out an instrument case. I blinked.  
"You brought your flute?"  
"I had just come from practice when Steph-Stephan-" he choked on the name, "wanted to go to dinner. I wasn't feeling well. It was the Suzaku seishi, of course, but I didn't know that at the time. He was going to take me downtown before the wind and rain got too bad and we were going to see Tokyo. Except…well…" he trailed off.  
"That didn't quite happen," I said softly. "That's ok."  
His hand paused on the flute case. "You think I could maybe go play for him? Would that help? I don't know if I still have my powers…but music helps heal. So they say."  
His other hand left mine to unzip the flute case and pull out the shining silver instrument. I saw him pause a moment over the headjoint. Light glimmered on it.  
"It's decorated?"  
He nodded. "Most flute players have engravings of some sort on their instruments."  
"Can I see?" I wondered.  
He handed me the head carefully, and I ran my hand over the engravings. Japanese characters. Ko. Kaku.  
_High spirits.  
The horn._  
"You…"  
"I've never stopped looking for my brother," he said. "Never."  
We sat in silence for a long while, just lost in the past.  
_Yui-sama…_  
"I'm going to go play," Jeff said quietly. "You can come if you want."  
I considered, then shook my head. "It's between you and him…"  
He smiled again. "I suppose so. I hope I can help."  
"Heal him, Amiboshi. For me."

  
The next thing I remembered was hands on my chest pumping and a mouth over mine breathing in air. I choked, coughing. The hands and mouth went away.  
"Can you hear me?" English.  
I blinked, trying to focus. It was dark. And wet. I could hear rushing water somewhere nearby.  
"Hello? Can you hear me? Chichiri? That is your name right…Chichiri?"  
I was fully awake.  
"Who.." It came out in a raspy whisper. I coughed again. "Who are you? Where am I?"  
A figure materialized in the darkness. I could only make out the silhouette in the dim light, a bulky shape wearing some sort of raincoat and hat, short and stocky.  
"I was on the other highway and I saw your car swept over…I pulled it to higher ground and got you out. You were on the way to drowning in there. It was all full of water. You feel all right?"  
I nodded, then frowned. Even in my fuzzy state of consciousness, something didn't feel right.  
"Wait. You pulled my car to shore?"  
He nodded.  
"How…how do you know my name? Who are you?"  
A hand came down on my shoulder. "Relax. There is no need to be afraid."  
"_Who are you?_"  
I didn't have my powers, but I could still defend myself well. I had enough chi and just enough knowledge of how to manipulate still to get by, and…  
To my surprise, he laughed.  
"Well, I let the cat out of the bag, didn't I?'  
A click and sputter as a cigarette lighter flickered on, and I saw his face in the darkness, a mass of bright places and shadow. "Sorry. Don't know how better to introduce myself. I'm Captain Phillip Cartwright, United States Air Force, stationed at Yokota Air Base just outside Tokyo. I think.-" he paused. "I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't think you would not know me on sight."  
I narrowed my eyes. United States Air Force? "What do you mean?"  
He sighed. "What I mean is that I was once a Seiryuu shichi seishi, just like you were a Suzaku shichi seishi. That's the only reason I recognized you."  
If he expected me to give him a violent and nervous reaction to his statement, he did not receive one. I blinked.  
"Oh," I said.  
His lip twisted. "Ironic, isn't it? I think it must be fate. How I saw you on the road. How I managed to pull your car over."  
"That's what I suspected," I said quietly. "No ordinary person would have been able to do that."  
"No."  
"So…" I hesitated. "Who were you? Before."  
"You're going to hate me."  
"I'll judge when I know you better in this life."  
He laughed. "Point. Miboshi. I was Miboshi."  
I remembered Chiriko dying with the voice of the demon coming from his mouth and the light of the demon in his bloody eyes.  
"Then again," he said, "you're thinking twice about judging me now, aren't you now?"  
It was the hardest thing in the world to shake my head.  
"No."  
"Yes you are." He got to his feet. "Don't deny it."  
"So what if I am?" I shot back, trying to push back the roiling flood of emotions that threatened to spill over. Hikou. Chiriko. Miboshi. Calm…I would remain calm. I was always calm.  
"I know you don't like me," he said. "I know I hurt you. We all did. I just want you to know that I didn't save your life for a favor. Chichiri."  
"Why didn't you just let me die?" I said, through gritted teeth. "It would have cost you nothing."  
"I know."  
"Why?"  
He was silent for a moment. "I'm tired of my life costing me nothing. It's one thing I've learned in this life over the last. To live, it has to cost something. You ever heard that saying 'You've got to dance like no one's watching, and love like it's never going to hurt'?"  
I shook my head. He chuckled. "It must be an American thing. Basically, 'life may be great or life may just plain suck. But live it as best as you can.' "  
"I suppose so."  
He was silent again, staring out at the rain. For the first time I noticed we were on higher ground, in the shadow of some buildings.  
The earth rumbled under our feet again, a little harder than before.  
The man leaning against the wall was not Miboshi. Miboshi was a demon, a spirit who had killed Chiriko. Who deserved to die. This man did not deserve to die.  
I didn't understand.  
The voices of the past echoed in my ears.  
_I'll return to the water, Houjun. I'm sorry._  
There was something I had to do. Something very important….  
Chiriko.  
"Chiriko," I said out loud. "Duke. Shit."  
Miboshi - Phillip - turned to look at me. "What?"  
He was Miboshi, I reminded myself. Miboshi. He killed Chiriko. I had never quite forgiven him for it, if forgive was even the word. How did one forgive a demon?  
He killed Chiriko once.  
"Do you have a car?"

  
It had been more than forty five minutes, and I didn't think Hong was coming.  
The rain was coming down harder than ever, and the earth had trembled more than once, each time a little harder than the time before it. I could feel the building quivering, and I huddled into myself in the lobby of the Foreign Language building, wondering if I could even see Hong's car in this rain. Why had I allowed myself to say yes to him on the phone?  
_I'm coming to get you,_ he said. _It's urgent. Very urgent.  
What's happened?_ I said.  
_I'll tell you when I see you. I'm coming._  
That was all.  
I hated it when Hong did that. When all of them did that. My whole life I had been treated like an innocent child, though in intelligence I probably surpassed the best of them. I had always been the youngest, the most vulnerable, and it didn't seem to matter when I tried to prove that I was just as competent as the rest.  
I didn't know why I even tried anymore.  
Maybe Hong had gotten lost in the darkness. The power had gone out, and the lobby lights were functioning on rapidly depleting emergency power. Maybe the earth tremors were harder where he had been and something had happened.  
No. I would have felt it.  
Headlights. I pressed my nose to the glass, looking out. That wasn't Hong's car. It was a silverish, boxy looking rental car. I frowned. There were few rental cars here in Tokyo. A lost tourist in the midst of a typhoon?  
A figure darted out of the car and ran towards the door. I moved instinctively to open the door, to get whoever it was out of the rain, if that was even possible. Not a success. The black, hooded raincoat stood on the clean tile floor, dripping muddy water and twigs.  
"Eh…" I wasn't sure what language to speak, finally deciding on Japanese. But before I could say anything, the man threw his hood back to shake the water out of his jacket, and I blinked. It was the man I had met on the subway a few days ago…Nikolas?  
"Nikolas?" I said.  
He frowned at me, and then his face cleared. Yes, it was definitely him. "Oh it's you! Duke…Prio?"  
I nodded. "What are you doing here?"  
He looked very familiar, for some reason, but I couldn't quite place him in my memory. Besides the scene on the subway, I had a faint feeling I had seen him before. But that was ridiculous. He was a Greek actor and I was an American professor in Japan. There was no reason we should even have met before.  
Nikolas looked faintly sheepish. "Actually, my friend Marco and I were on the way to the Tokyo hospital and we seem to have gotten lost. We saw a lighted building…"  
"I see." The hospital? It must be an emergency, to be going there in this weather. "You're going the wrong way."  
"Ah. That would be why we can't find it."  
"Could I…" I hesitated. Hong might be here any minute…  
I needed a ride home anyway, and I didn't think Hong was going to make it. He had probably turned back. The roads were too flooded and the wind was coming down too hard. It faintly crossed my mind that going with Nikolas in a car would not be such a good idea. But I was logical, right? I could make my own decisions.  
"Could I have a ride home?"  
Nikolas frowned. "We might be a while at the hospital…"  
"It doesn't matter. I can wait."  
"Come on, then."  
We headed into the oncoming storm.

  
The car slowed to a low crawl as I attempted to head it into the wind. The machine was fighting me at every turn, refusing to listen to my commands. I didn't blame it. If I were a car, I wouldn't want to be driving in this weather, either.  
For some reason, the thought that we might drown and be lost in the floods didn't bother me much.  
Beside me sat Hong, the man who I once knew as Suzaku shichi seishi Chichiri, his expression set, intense. I knew how much effort it had taken him to ask me to do this favor for him, after me saving his life. It was a stoop below him, to ask this of an enemy.  
Former enemy, at least. I still wasn't sure if it really mattered.  
Of course, I was now trying to rescue the very person I had killed so long ago. Maybe that mattered for something.  
The car choked, and I hit the ignition impatiently. It started up again with a cough. It couldn't keep up much longer. My car was old. Raindrops and wind hit the windshield with the intensity of hail.  
"Phillip, you can turn back if you want."  
"Naw. It's ok."  
"I-"  
"I said it was ok," I muttered through gritted teeth. One of the wipers shivered, then snapped. I saw it briefly fly away in the glow of the headlights before disappearing into the water. "We'll make it."  
Funny. Hong didn't seem afraid either.  
I turned the steering wheel slowly to the left. Too late I saw the oncoming headlights. Too late the silvery shape of another car appeared out of the blackness.  
"Look out!"  
There was a sickening crunch and my hands let go of the steering wheel, and I was hurtling through the air, cold rain pouring down my back and something warm trickling down my face.  
A flash of blue light and then all was blessed darkness.  


  



	8. Sora : Sky

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**SORA: SKY**

_Energy may be likened to the bending of a crossbow; decision, to the releasing of the trigger...The clever combatant looks to the effect of combined energy...He takes individual talent into account, and uses each man according to his capabilities._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

The phone rang only twice before I picked it up. I usually hated answering the phone, would let it ring until the answering machine picked up, but it might be the hospital. I grabbed it, shoved it to my ear, hoping to hear the voice of the intensive care unit nurse.  
"Ola?"  
"Pedro?" The voice spoke in English. "This is Andy Wong."  
Not the nurse. My heartbeat slowed and the tension left my chest. I felt drained.  
"Hello, Andy."  
I shifted the phone to my left ear and closed the curtains partly on the gray and rainy afternoon. The sky probably wasn't going to get any lighter today. The weather channel reported 70 percent chance of rain starting late afternoon, and there would almost certainly be flooding.. I would have to run my errands as soon as I got off the phone…and make a visit to the hospital.  
"Listen, Pedro-"  
A pause and a scuffle of the phone changing hands. "Pedro? Denis."  
I could hear the tension over the line. "Denis? What's going on?"  
"Pedro…agh." A sound of frustration. "I dunno how to say this…look, Miaka needs your help. And Seiryuu seishi."  
"WHAT?"  
"Hey, hey, calm down. I know it's a shock. Yeah, they're alive and in Tokyo…Nakago got hit by a car…Hong and Duke are-"  
"Denis!"  
A pause. "Yeah?"  
"I'm not understanding a word you are saying." I held the phone in one hand, groping with the other for the arm of the couch that I knew was somewhere to my right. "The Seiryuu seishi…are alive?"  
"They're here….with us in Tokyo. Hong and I met Nakago and Amiboshi…on the street…there was a car accident. Nakago…Stephan…His neck is broken…And Miaka…she won't wake up…Look, I know this isn't making sense to you and there's no time to explain…I know you're not a doctor anymore, but do you remember? How to heal, I mean?"  
_His neck is broken…_  
I found the sofa and sank into the soft cushions, staring up at the ceiling and hearing Denis' jabbering voice in my ear. "Heal?"  
"I don't know what's going on. There's a huge typhoon coming through here, and the water is just rising and rising…Hong and Duke are missing…Miaka's in some type of coma or something. I think it has to do with us…if you could somehow help us…please…"  
My hands were shaking and I could hardly keep the phone in his grasp.  
"Look, Denis-"  
"I know it's a bad time-"  
I closed my eyes, leaning against the back of the couch. "Denis, my sister was just killed in a car accident and my wife is in the hospital with a broken neck. Yes, it's a bad time."  
"Oh." The former bandit sounded taken aback. I waited.  
"Damn, Pedro, I-I'm sorry. I won't bother you."  
"I can't think about this right now, Denis."  
"S-Sorry," the voice mumbled over the phone. "I'll let you go, then."  
"I can't even heal my own family," I said softly. "How can I help Miaka? The Seiryuu seishi, who were enemies? I'm sorry, Denis, but I can't."  
I didn't wait for the answering apology but simply took the phone from my ear and set it softly back down in the cradle.  
_Do you remember? How to heal?_  
So it was the same as it had always been. I'd been the healer, the last resort, the one who was either passed over or couldn't make it in time. From what I could remember…of the past. Mitsukake, the healer. Mitsukake, who would make everything all right by healing whatever wound whatever seishi was suffering from and then who would stand quietly in the shadows while the others risked fool life and limb so they could come back and be healed again.  
And always, when it had really mattered, I couldn't heal.  
Always.  
Thunder rumbled outside. A typhoon, Denis had said. I remembered seeing that on the television this morning when I was sitting in the waiting room. I hated hospitals. They were too white and sterile and clean and, for some reason, smelled of death.  
I had thought it was all over. That I could live a normal life now, as a normal man and be rid of the ghosts that had plagued me for so long in the past. But apparently my god would not let me go.  
"Damn you, Suzaku," I whispered. "Damn you."  
_What more do you want from me? I gave you my love, my life, and now you take it away from me again?_  
I brought my fist crashing down on the coffee table in a sudden fit of despair.  
"WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT?"  
The shout reverberated through the house, but otherwise all was quiet. I slumped back on the couch, drained. I needed to go to the hospital. It was almost like death to me every time I had walked in through those doors and heard the beeping of the heart monitor that sustained my wife's fragile life. Why did it have to be her? Why not…someone else?  
_Nakago…Stephan…His neck is broken._  
I drew a deep shuddering breath. Storms…here and in Tokyo. Car accidents here and in Tokyo. Two people injured….one here and one in Tokyo.  
_It has to do with us._  
If I had gone to Tokyo instead of coming back here to clear the mortgage on the house, would my family still be alive and well?  
"Suzaku," I breathed into the still air. "What the hell do you want from me?  
Through the half-closed curtains, the rain began falling from the gray sky.  
_Why won't you let me go?_

  
"Pedro can't do anything," Denis said in a wooden voice as he slammed the phone back into the cradle. "His family was in a car accident…His sister didn't make it. His wife broke her neck."  
I looked at Andy. He had the same stricken look on his face.  
"Nakago," I said. "Just like Nakago."  
He nodded.  
"Hey…Tamah-Taka?"  
I turned to find Steven Grant staring at me with wide blue eyes. His hair was still wet, but he was dressed in dry, clean clothes. "What's going on? Where is Yui?"  
I swallowed.  
"Steven…I think we need to talk."

  
"Amiboshi."  
My fingers paused on the keys, but his eyes were still closed and he looked like he was asleep. Had he spoken? A muscle in his cheek twitched slightly.  
"Amiboshi…you will go to Konan-koku."  
I froze.  
"S-Stephan?"  
He sighed through parted lips and then relaxed back into slumber. My heart was racing, and I couldn't seem to breathe. I struggled not to drop my flute as I stared at his sleeping face, hearing that deep voice in my head once more.  
_Amiboshi, you will go to Konan-koku.  
No! Aniki! Why? Why do you have to go? Why can't I go with you?_  
The man who had spoken just then was not Stephan Beau-Signeur but Nakago. Had he forgotten? There were two sets of memories residing in that body, as in all our bodies, and ultimately one would have to triumph…right?  
Was that how it worked? Would I start to forget Jeff Cotorro and slide back into half-forgotten memories of Seiryuu shichi seishi Amiboshi?  
"Stephan?" I whispered, almost afraid to make a sound. "Wake up...? Please?"  
There was no answer.

  
"I'm going to go."  
"NO!"  
I gave him a mocking smile, empty and bitter. "Why so vehement, Tamahome? Didn't you want me dead before?"  
"Look, Steven, the streets are flooding. There's going to be an earthquake any minute now…we might not even be safe in the house! You'll be killed if you go outside! Be reasonable!"  
"My brother is over there, Tamahome. The girl I love, who I have gone through two lifetimes to be with, is there."  
"They're not in any danger! Steven, you're insane. How are you going to get there? Nothing is running. Half the power lines in the city are down!"  
"Same as I got here," I replied, shrugging into my still-wet coat. "Walk."  
"Steven-"  
"I came to be with her," I said. "She needs me. Seiryuu will protect me."  
"You-"  
I opened the door to the pouring rain. Thunder rumbled and the wind was violent against my clothing and my hair. I heard Taka come up beside me. "No more arguments, Tamahome."  
"I'm not arguing," he said, and I turned to see him wearing a raincoat and rainboots. He handed me a pair with a fierce look.  
"I'm coming with you."

  
I woke to the dim light of a cigarette lighter.  
"I think he's coming around," a voice said in English, and I coughed, feeling something wet trickle down my cheek. My stomach felt raw and my eyes were gritty.  
"Duke? Can you hear me?"  
I opened my eyes fully and saw a face leaning down at me, eyes worried. It was blurry. I blinked and tried to refocus, and Hong's face swam into view.  
"Ho-Hong?"  
"Don't talk," he said. Before he could say anything else the peculiar feeling in my stomach manifested itself into the form of me vomiting up the dinner I had eaten tonight all over his lap.  
I saw him back away quickly as the half-digested food came spilling out of my mouth and as I sank exhausted back onto whatever ground I was currently sprawled out on, I felt arms catch my head in a gentle grasp, a cloth wiping my mouth.  
"Where am I?" I rasped. The sour tinge of stomach acid and bile rankled my throat. I felt sick. "Why are you here?"  
"There was an accident…" Hong trailed off. Strands of short dark hair hung around his face and he had a bruise over one eye and cuts on his forehead. "You were in the other car that hit mine."  
"Damn. Talk about fate."  
He shrugged, then winced. "I wouldn't be surprised if we were the only cars out on the streets…the water is rising too fast and there's no way we would have made it anywhere."  
"Where am I?" I said again, feeling a little better as my stomach settled.  
"The second floor of a subway station waiting area. All lower areas are already flooded out."  
Looking around in the light of the lightning flashes outside, I could see concrete pillars and benches.  
"We must be crazy," I said, struggling to sit up. Hong's arm slid down to my shoulders and he helped me up, leaning me against one of the pillars that dotted the station.  
"It gets worse." I caught the grim note in his voice and the eyes that looked into mine were deadly serious.  
"Hong?" I had never seen him look this way. "What's wrong?"  
"He means me," said a new voice, approaching through the dark. A light flared and the voice became a stocky man carrying a flashlight and wearing a long raincoat. He was American too, it looked like, and he had a friendly face that I guessed was usually smiling. At the moment he looked just as serious as Hong did.  
"You all right, kid?"  
"I'm fine," I mumbled. I hated it when people called me "kid." I suppose he caught my look, because he stuck his hand out in apology.  
"Sorry. Slip of the tongue. I would have guessed you wouldn't want a reminder of your age…anyway, my name is Phillip Cartwright. Nice to meet you."  
"Duke Prio," I said, returning the handshake. I couldn't see what was so threatening about this man, if indeed that was what they were worried about. "You're American?"  
He nodded and one corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. Yes, his face was definitely built for smiling. "From Kansas, born and bred. You?"  
"Texas."  
The corner of his mouth lifted further. "You don't have a Texas accent. Or look like a cowboy."  
"Well, you don't look like a wheat farmer," I returned, already feeling at ease with this man. He grinned, finally.  
"Touché."  
"Duke."  
Hong's serious voice cut into my thoughts, and I turned slightly, frowning.  
"Do you know who this man is?"  
"Look…Hong…don't give him more to be frightened about than he already is," Phillip cut in, setting the lantern on the ground and squatting next to me. "Duke…what Hong is trying to say is…" He broke off, looking at the ground. "Man, this is tough. Do you remember…anything? Of…a past life?"  
I went very still. "How did you know?"  
Phillip and Hong exchanged unreadable glances. Phillip looked back at me, sighing deeply. "Do you remember the one who killed you?"  
I looked into his eyes, so honest and worried, and suddenly I suspected exactly what he was trying to say. One glance at Hong confirmed my suspicions.  
_Seiryuu?_  
They were both watching me intently, the one who had been known as Chichiri and the one who had been…Miboshi? It couldn't be. Phillip was friendly and helpful and honest, and obviously Hong trusted him more than a little, or else none of us would be here sitting in this abandoned subway station in the middle of a typhoon.  
But apparently it was. Did Hong hate him for what he had done to me in the past? I glanced at Hong again, but he was watching Phillip instead.  
"I'm sorry," Phillip murmured at last when I didn't respond. "I don't know what to say…I just thought you should know…in case you, you know." He shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry."  
The man who knelt before me with head bent was not a Seiryuu seishi. At least not one of the Seiryuu seishi that I had known. His sorrow was too genuine, his apology too real. Or perhaps I was too innocent…  
I would not hold a grudge against a man, who, no matter what he had been in the past, was now simply a stranger first met. No matter what, I wanted to make things right.  
My hand caught at Phillip's wrist as he started to stand, and he stopped in mid-movement, the flashlight dangling from his hand.  
"My name was Chiriko," I said quietly. "And I was the orchestrater of my own death."  
"Duke-!"  
I ignored the exclamation from Hong, keeping my eyes fixed on Phillip's, hoping he would understand. And suddenly, he smiled.  
"You're a noble one," he said. "Thank you."

  
We stayed huddled around the flashlight as if the puny light would give us warmth. Three Seiryuu and two Suzaku, glancing at each other over the light, not wary glances but simply tired ones.  
I had introduced myself as Nikolas, but Phillip had been quick to make it clear that Marco and I were not mere mortals either. The two Suzaku seemed to accept that as simple fact, which surprised me greatly.  
_Pleased to meet you_, the one named Hong had said, who had then introduced himself as Suzaku shichi seishi Chichiri. Marco and I had looked at one another. We had expected hostility, perhaps denail, but never acceptance. I frowned at Phillip, who shrugged and smiled.  
_Second chances, remember?  
Change._  
They'd changed too. The Suzaku. I couldn't pinpoint exactly what, but they had definitely changed. They seemed…older, maybe. Wiser, and sadder.  
I could understand that.  
"So are we just going to sit here until we rot away and die?"  
Duke Prio's voice broke into my thoughts. I had not been too surprised when he had introduced himself as Chiriko. Ever since that day on the train I had known he was not what he seemed…and so had he, apparently, with simply a nod of his head when I had revealed myself as Tomo.  
"There's nowhere we can go," Hong said wearily. He leaned his head against the pillar. His eye was swelling quickly, but we had nothing to put on it at the moment. "We're stuck."  
He had told us in brief and sketchy detail what had happened earlier this evening at the crossroads, and I simply felt a great sorrow slide over me as he told us of Stephan's fate. I did not know if I still loved Nakago, but it was a waste of a man who had done so much to turn his life around. That was probably why Yui had wanted us at the hospital, and we had no way of reaching her now.  
"Cell phone services are down," I said, "so I can't call anyone. Yui-sama is still waiting at the hospital…"  
"Did she call all of us?" Phillip wondered.  
"I think so."  
"Suboshi - Steven Grant - was at Taka and Miaka's house when I last left," Hong cut in. "He said she had called him a few days ago. He just arrived in Japan tonight..."  
"What a day to arrive," Phillip said, blowing out a breath. The air was sticky with humidity and a little cold. The station itself was damp.  
"You guys!"  
Duke had pushed himself up from the ground and was standing, albeit a little unsteadily. "I'm not going to sit here and wait around for something to happen! Don't you see what's going on?"  
"What?" Hong looked baffled, starting to stand to grip the boy's arm. "Duke, sit down!"  
Duke shoved his arm away with surprising strength. "Your miko is calling you, and so is ours!" His voice was desperate. The stations was lit with the brilliance of lightning, and thunder crashed. "We can't afford to wait! This isn't about a typhoon and rain and a storm and a car accident! It's about our gods and us! Can't you see that? If we don't do something…we'll die."  
He was swaying on his feet now, and when Hong put an arm around him to steady him, he didn't push it away. Marco and Phillip and I looked at each other.  
"He's right," I said quietly, feeling an sudden respect for the boy. "You know, he's right."  
Marco nodded. "I told you before, Nikolas. Fate."  
Phillip jumped to his feet, picking up the flashlight.  
"Well, shit, then! Yui-sama needs us, and we're just sitting here?"  
"Hong, are the floors below all flooded?"  
The Suzaku seishi nodded. "The water was up to waist level when we carried you up here, and I'd be willing to bet anything that it's creeping up the stairs as we speak."  
We were silent for a minute, and I could hear the thoughts whirring in the others' heads. The question was not if now, but how. How we could get out of this building and reach the gods who were calling us to them. How we could get out in time. The wind and rain and storm was no barrier now, because we were the chosen ones, and nature could not hurt us, we whose gods were more powerful than death.  
A thunder crash made us all jump, and my eyes went to the window through which moments before a lightning flash had lit up the room and the sky beyond.  
The sky…  
Water met sky a few meters down below the edge of the windowsill.  
"Hey," I said. "What if we go through the window?"

  
The pouring rain and wind battered at us as we made our way down the deserted streets. The water was almost to mid-thigh now, and the city of Tokyo looked dead, drowned by water.  
"Steven, slow down! You're going to get yourself killed!"  
I didn't even bother to look back at Taka, who was struggling along behind me. I needed to get to Yui. My heart was burning in my chest, knowing that somehow, some way, this was the only thing I had to do and then I could let go, I could let everything else go and drift away in peace. If I could be with her.  
I had neglected her. I hadn't seen that, but it was painfully obvious now. Our awkward phone calls, our waning communication. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I had fought two lifetimes for her, and I had been the one to let it all go, because I hadn't cared enough.  
When I hadn't been able to find my brother I'd completely dropped communication with her, believing that if I couldn't have my aniki I would die. Just as I had believed before, in another lifetime. One would think I would have learned from past mistakes.  
Standing in Taka's house and listening to Denis' impassioned conversation on the phone, I had realized two things.  
One, that the man who was my brother now was a complete stranger to me. He had the memories of Amiboshi the Seiryuu seishi, but I had never met him. I loved Amiboshi, not Jeff Cotorro. I had been chasing after a dream. I could never have my brother truly back, no matter how much I wanted and yearned for it to be so, and moping about wasn't going to solve anything.  
And two, that Yui really did love me.  
The second truth was the most important of all.  
"Steven! Slow down!"  
"We're running out of time, Tamahome!" I shouted back. Lightning streaked down from the sky and the hairs on the back of my neck prickled from the electricity, but I kept on. The water was cold. I could no longer feel my legs.  
"Out of time for what?"  
"Everything!"  
"Steven-"  
Another flash of lightning, but somehow this one was too close and I felt a red flash of pain and the world shrank to a pinpoint of light before my eyes.  
"STEVEN!"  
I screamed.  
I could no longer stand, and I felt only the cold shock of the water hitting my face. The current was too strong and I couldn't move my fingers to grasp onto anything. I was drifting away.  
It was too soon. I couldn't go yet. I hadn't finished!  
_Yui…!_  
Something strong clamped onto me and hauled me partially out of the water, dragging me to one side, out of the current. I drew a deep, shuddering breath. Hands massaged my arms.  
"You ok?"  
My limbs did work after all. I nodded, somewhat shakily.  
"Stupid…Soi…trying to play a trick…on me."  
He laughed weakly, and before I could react pulled me close in a fierce embrace.  
"You idiot," Taka said. "You fucking brave, insane idiot." He was crying.  
"Tamahome-"  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry. I forgive you. I'm sorry."  
I closed my eyes. I heard the roar of thunder in my ears, but I could no longer feel the electricity of the lightning as I pulled him close in return, as I would any close friend. As I would my own brother.  
The rain mixed with my tears until I could no longer tell which was which, but it didn't matter, because I could finally cast aside the burden of the dead innocent ghosts which had been weighing on my memories for so long.  
_Chuei.  
Gkyokuran.  
Shunkei.  
Yuiren._  
He released me just as suddenly and unexpectedly, and we stood for a moment staring at each other in the rain, smiling through the storm.  
"Come on, Suboshi," he said, grabbing me by the arm. "The ones you love…they're waiting for you." 

  



	9. Ai : Love

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**AI:LOVE**

_ If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. _

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

A splash as Duke Prio jumped down beside me and bobbed to the surface, coughing. "You're right," he shouted, struggling to be heard over the thunder and the rain. "I can't feel any footing at all."  
I nodded. "And with the lightning, this isn't going to be easy."  
"I know."  
Something in his voice struck me, but when I opened my mouth to ask him what he was thinking, he had already turned away from me, splashing over to where the other three seishi were standing, waiting for us.  
"I was the last one, Phillip," he called over to me. "We can go now."  
I breathed in deeply, feeling the cold water slowly numb my toes and fingers. "Where do we go from here?"  
Hong pointed to his right. The driving rain was still coming down hard and visibility was virtually non-existent. Nikolas shook his head at him.  
"Are you sure? I can't see a thing!"  
Hong's eyes were closed, and he was smiling slightly.  
"I'm sure. Follow me."

  
A new light flared to life on the monitors. I had no idea what that meant, but it was probably something bad. Grasping my flute in one hand, I pounded on the nurse call bell, and a harried looking male nurse came rushing into the room. I pointed at the light.  
The expression on the nurse's face didn't change, but he turned and walked out of the room without a word. My heart beat faster and I felt faintly sick.  
Footsteps sounded on the linoleum floor outside and the nurse rushed back into the room with a doctor by his side. The doctor took one glance at the monitors, then heaved a deep sigh, looking back at me and shaking his head.  
"That's bad, isn't it?" I said in English.  
The look in his eyes told me enough. He nodded once, made a sign with his finger to wait, then departed out the door with the male nurse.  
Stephan's skin was warm and he was breathing, but when I touched him I could feel that something had gone out of him. Something had changed…and the man I had known was never coming back.  
"Nakago-sama…" I whispered, clutching my flute to my chest like a lost child.  
Because I was a lost child. Stephan had been my mentor and my guide, the first true one I had ever had, and now he was gone. Again.  
Just like that.  
Gently, I touched my hand to his chest, through the maze of tubes, and I thought I could feel his heart breaking.  
Or maybe what I felt was just the last vestiges of splintered shards falling away because his heart had broken long ago when the woman he loved had been taken from him.  
My mind turned back to that conversation we had had in his kitchen so long ago, about second chances and rebirth and Soi. He had forbidden me to call him Nakago then, because we were no longer the people we once were, and for him, things had changed. He'd accepted…simply accepted my declaration for a new start and a new life, and he had never mentioned it again.  
I'd sounded so damn noble, hadn't I? When I had spoken so eloquently about forgiveness and forgetting. And I thought I had actually meant it, at the time. I had forgiven Stephan, the new man, for what he had done in the past…but was that the same as forgiving Nakago? If I was honest with myself…would I say I had forgiven Nakago, the harsh, cold, unfeeling, amoral bastard, for all that he had done? For sending me to my death? For taking my brother from me?  
No. I hadn't.  
"You really screwed up my life," I said to the unmoving figure on the bed, my hand still on his chest, feeling it rise and fall. "You know that? You lied to me, you stole my brother out of my arms, you sent me away to die. I should just leave you here. You deserve to die alone. Nakago-sama."  
It felt good to get that out. I hadn't even realized that the feelings were still there until now, until I had said the words. I couldn't have ever said them if knew he was listening to me. I wouldn't have had the nerve, because I was still frightened of him.  
I looked again at the face of the man who had betrayed me, eyes closed, breathing shallowly, pale and lifeless, and felt an odd hollow twisting in my gut.  
Once I would have given anything to see Nakago lying helpless like this, but the man before me wasn't Nakago. He was a good friend, a man who had helped me when I had needed the help and had never asked for anything in return. He had shared his soul with me while I had selfishly kept mine from him. He had saved me.  
"I-Stephan-" I said into the dark room. His only response was the rise and fall of his chest.  
_It's time to let go…Amiboshi…_  
"Nakago," I whispered. I could almost feel the shadows in the room stir, as if the mere mention of that name held potent power still. "Nakago, you told me once that though we were reborn, there were some things that couldn't be righted. Remember? You told me that everyone you had ever loved had died. You told me that you had truly loved Soi, at the end, and you couldn't see it."  
I felt my voice breaking. "You said that you thought Seiryuu had brought you back to make you suffer. And deep down, I agreed with you. About you and me, but you most of all. My noble speech wasn't all that noble, was it? I guess I fooled you. I fooled myself too."  
Gently I reached out, taking the flute from my arms, and placing it on his chest, atop the white bedsheets. I had promised myself I wouldn't cry, that it was time to grow up, but as the tears spilled down my cheeks I made no move to stop them.  
"Gods…Nakago…I…I wish you'd say something. Open your eyes and look at me…or something. So that I know you're hearing me. Because you aren't hearing me, are you? But I have to…I have to say this. It's too long overdue…you tried to kill me once, Nakago, but you saved me. I owe everything to you. I…"  
Almost violently I wrenched my hand from the flute. The silver metal glimmered in the red lights of the monitors.  
"I'm trying to tell you that I forgive you," I said at last, the words coming choked from my throat. "I told you once long ago, but the one I told was Stephan BeauSeigneur, not Seiryuu shichi seishi Nakago. I'm telling you now, as seishi to seishi, that I don't care what you've done in the past. I don't care."  
The tears had stopped, and all I felt was a deep, drowning grief.  
"Please don't die. Don't die. I don't…"  
There were footsteps in the hallway, and I stepped away from the bed.  
"I don't want to lose anyone else."

  
When the phone rang, I jumped for it, and the voice this time was in Portuguese.  
"Posso falar com Sr. Pedro Almeida?"  
"Speaking," I said, hardly daring to breathe.  
"We are calling to inform you that there has been no change in your wife's condition. We are very sorry." "Do you have any questions?"  
"No," I said dully. "No questions."  
"Goodbye."  
Whoever was on the other line hung up with a click and the rain was still coming down hard outside. I felt like crying, but what use were tears? Tears would not bring my sister back, and they certainly would not heal my wife.  
If I lost her…  
The phone slipped from my lax hand and I made no effort to retrieve it as it plunked down on the carpet with a thudding noise. How could the doctors be so unfeeling? They were trained to heal, weren't they? They were professional because they believed that life above all else was more important, and they wanted to preserve that life.  
That was what I believed. I had been a healer, once, and I wanted to storm into the hospital, grab those doctors, and shake some sense into them. I had healed because I believed in life, had given my own life to preserve what I had believed was the most important thing in the world.  
I wondered how many of these doctors would give their lives for their patients.  
I was willing to bet that none of them would.  
I walked to the window, touching the pane where the raindrops splattered and slowly trickled their way down to the sill below. Gray, even the rain was gray. Everything was blurring together in a monotone of gray, and I felt dizzy. I hadn't eaten since…since yesterday morning…when the accident…  
I fell to my knees, my hand sliding slowly down the windowpane and leaving a ghostly trail of fingerprints to match the fine path of the raindrop on the other side. I stared at it, the covering of oil on the glass, like a mirror of the rain. My fingerprints, simply a duplication of the storm outside…  
_It has to do with us._  
No. It was ridiculous. And even if it was true, even if the threads of my fate were tied, spun into a web with those of the others, I could no longer heal. It was impossible. _Suzaku…_  
"Let me go," I said hoarsely to the window, my hands still gripping the pane like it was my one hope of survival. "Let me go…I'm no longer yours!"  
That's what I wanted to believe. That I was no longer the god's plaything, to be tossed about and thrown away like I was nothing. To heal all in vain.  
The voice in my head nagged at me.  
_Was it in vain, when you healed Tasuki?  
Nuriko…I couldn't reach him in time.  
Was Shouka's death in vain then?_  
I shook my head violently, trying to force that inner conscience silent. _That's different! I loved her!  
Did you not love the other seishi? Were they not your brothers? You were a chosen one of Suzaku. You were given power because he loved you.  
I didn't…  
Were Chichiri's tears in vain? Did your last act mean nothing, when you healed the child, because you believed in life?  
Mitsukake._  
I raised my head and my vision swam with red light. Something exploded in front of my eyes and I raised my arm to shield my face from the brilliance.  
_Suzaku!_  
It wasn't my conscience, but my god who was speaking to me, showering me with a glorious rain of light.  
_Mitsukake, I love you.  
See._  
A thousand voices, a thousand faces. The child I had saved. Chichiri as he used to be, holding his hand out to me. Miaka, eyes closed and face pale. A golden-haired man lying in a hospital bed, clinging on to life. Tamahome shouting. Tasuki brandishing his tessen. Hotohori, on his knees. Chiriko, as Duke Prio, in the rain. A boy raising a flute to his lips. Amiboshi.  
Shouka, her face beautiful in the light of glory.  
The wild cry of the phoenix echoed.  
_You are mine, Mitsukake. You will always be mine. I chose you because I love you, and as long as you are my seishi, I will be your god.  
Suzaku…!_  
I fell to my hands and knees, and a slow warmth surrounded me, built steadily until I felt I was burning in an eternity of flame. Without fear. Without shame.  
As quickly as it had come, the light and warmth vanished.  
I could hear the rain drumming on the roof and feel sweat trickling down my face. I was drenched with it, and shivering violently.  
It hadn't been a dream…it had been real. The voice of the god echoed in my ears, and I knew what I had to do. Because the threads of all our fates were tied as one, and to save myself I to save them as well.  
It was what any true healer would do.  
I began to pray.

  
With a flicker, the power went out.  
"Ah, shit," I heard Denis say. "Where the hell are the fucking flashlights?"  
"Tasuki!"  
"Sorry," he mumbled. I could hear him stumbling across the room in an attempt to find his way. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the minimal light coming from outside the drawn curtains. A flash of lightning lit up the room and I saw Denis on the far side of the room, clutching onto a lamp.  
"You big baby," I chided.  
"I hate lightning!"  
There were footsteps on the stairs and the bright beam of a flashlight found its way into the room where we were standing. Denis gave an inarticulate cry and there was the crash of something falling.  
"Don't do that!"  
I frowned. "Joe? What did you do?"  
"He shone the light in my eyes! I can't see! And I think I just broke Taka's lamp. Shit!"  
"Andy," Joe said, his voice quiet, ignoring Denis. "Miaka…"  
In two steps I was at the door, grasping his arm. "What? What's happened?"  
He shook his head and I could read the confusion and despair in his eyes. "She was struggling…calling for Tamahome…" He stopped. "Come and see. I can't explain…"  
We ran up the stairs, Denis a pace behind us. There was a strange light permeating the air of the second floor, and I felt the urge to tiptoe as we entered the bedroom.  
Miaka was lying on the bed, surrounded by a pulsing crimson glow, her hands clasped as if in prayer, her eyes closed. Her lips were moving without sound.  
_Oh gods…_  
"Suzaku," Denis whispered behind me.  
"She's-"  
"She looks like she's…summoning Suzaku," I said, the awe creeping into my voice. "Nuriko-how-"  
Joe shook his head. "She was lying there…and then she said 'Mitsukake.' Just one word, just like that…and it happened…"  
"Amazing," I said, reaching out one hand towards her, feeling the urge to fall to my knees. "Suzaku-seikun…"  
A brilliant flare of light flashed before my eyes, and I cried out in terror. I could feel myself falling…and then being lifted up, as if on wings.  
_Suzaku shichi seishi Hotohori…_  
I opened my eyes to a face filled with compassion.  
_Do not be afraid._

  
"Uh…Steven?"  
My voice was lost in the crashing thunder, and I raised it to a shout.  
"Steven?"  
"What?" he yelled back. He had taken the lead once more, as if he knew exactly where the hospital was. I had no idea how he could see anything in the heavy downpour, but I trusted him.  
"Steven…look! You're-"  
He stopped, looking back at me, and I waved a hand at him.  
A blue glow surrounded him, hazy in the rain, wavering and strengthening.  
"You're glowing…?"  
Only when he pointed a finger at me with the same astonished expression did I realize that I was surrounded by red light.  
"So are you…"

  
Something woke me.  
Maybe it was the crash of thunder that had seemed to split my eardrums, or the pandemonium in the ICU hall next to the hospital waiting room that I could hear through the electronically locked double doors. Maybe it was both.  
"I've need to get in!"  
That voice-  
"I'm sorry sir, but we can't admit you until you have a valid pass-the hospital is closed-"  
"You can't be closed! You're a hospital! What if somebody was dying out there?"  
I sprang to my feet, racing to the door, trying to see through the small window. It was him, engaged in an impassioned argument with two security personnel. Taka was beside him, looking wet and tired, but with the same intensity in his eyes.  
To my shock and surprise they were both surrounded by a thin glow; Steven's blue and Taka's red.  
"Let us through. Please!"  
"Steven!" I yelled, pounding on the door. "Steven, I'm in here!"  
I don't know how he heard me, but he looked up and met my eyes. "Yui!"  
There was a gentle tap on my shoulder, and I looked up to see another security guard standing behind me.  
"Ojosan…you know them?"  
I nodded violently. "Please, please let them through." I was expecting him to comment on the light surrounding them, but he simply looked at me. Could he not see it? "I've been waiting for them…"  
The guard smiled slightly, sliding a card through the electronic lock, and the doors slid open. The four on the other side looked as he stepped through.  
"It's all right," he said, waving Steven and Taka through. "They have permission to enter."  
The door slid shut and Steven was wrapping me in a hug before I could say anything. He was wet and cold, but that didn't matter, because he was here. I held him tightly, smelling the scent that was uniquely him.  
"I'm sorry it took so long, Yui-"  
"It's ok," I whispered. "It's all right. I understand."  
"We had to walk through the rain-"  
I pulled away from him, aghast. "WALK?"  
"That's what I said," Taka mumbled. "So I had to come with him to keep him from getting into any mischief…"  
"You could have been killed! Steven!"  
He smiled gently. "But I'm here now."  
"You idiot!" Tears filled my eyes. "Wasn't it enough that I've lost one friend tonight to some fool accident? I don't want to lose you too!"  
He grabbed my hand. "Nakago..he's-"  
"No. Well," I amended. "I don't know. He's in a coma…I think…"  
Steven pulled me to him again, and we stood in silence for a while. "I'm sorry," he said at last.  
I frowned. "For what?"  
"For everything…for letting you down…I haven't been a very good boyfriend, have I?"  
"It's all right," I murmured.  
"No," he said, letting me go and holding me at arm's length, so I could see his face. The blue glow that surrounded him wavered and I could almost feel it seep into my soul.  
_Seiryuu…_  
"No, it's not. Stop saying that, Yui."  
"But I-"  
"Yui, I love you. I've always loved you. I'd do anything for you…and I haven't told you that. I want you to know that now."  
Fragments of a conversation drifting back to me, the sound of a breaking water jar, the tight trembling grip of a boy I hardly knew and words so impassioned that I didn't know what to believe.  
_Yui-sama! You must believe me, Yui-sama! I love you!_  
"Suboshi…" I whispered. "I…"  
The doors slid open.  
"Yui? Stephan-"  
There was a split second pause, and time froze.

  
I stood in the open doorway, mouth open, feeling the blood drain from my face, hardly daring to believe the sight before me. Yui was there, along with a young man who looked very much like Tamahome…and with his arms around Yui…  
He didn't look anywhere near how I had pictured him in my mind for so many years, but somehow, I knew. I simply knew.  
"Oh dear God," he whispered, slowly removing his hands from Yui's shoulders. His gaze searched my face.  
I reached my right hand outward, moving in infinite suspense, as if trapped in slow movement.  
He took a step forward.  
"A-aniki?"  
And then he was running forward, shoes clattering loud on the linoleum floor and I was wrapping his arms around him and we were both crying.  
"Aniki! Aniki!"  
"Shun…Shun."  
It was him. It was him. The same voice, the same things that had made him uniquely him, the brother I had lost and then found and then lost again.  
"Why did you leave me?" His voice was muffled against my chest. "Why? WHY?"  
"Shun…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please…I…"  
His arms wrapped tight around me and for an instant I felt as if something had left me, like half of me had been torn away and left empty, searching. Or was it that I had suddenly become whole again, after so long, and forgotten what it was like to be complete?  
It didn't matter now.  
I had my brother back, and that was all I had ever needed. Ever.  
"Shun…"  
Outside, the rain beat and thunder roared, but inside it was just the two of us, he and I, and I would never want for anything again.  
"Aniki," he whispered. "Aniki, I love you." 

  



	10. Hikari : Light

_Fate copyright 1998 to L'Arc~en~Ciel.  
Fushigi Yuugi and all characters are property of Watase Yuu.  
_

**HIKARI:LIGHT**

_ The art of war is of vital importance to the State. It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or to ruin. Hence under no circumstance can it be neglected..._

Sun Tzu, The Art of War

_If I had told you I loved you, would you still have died?  
Would you?  
…Would you?_

  
"The hospital's that way!"  
I squinted against the rain. My legs and arms were growing tired, and it was not getting any lighter outside. "Hong-"  
"Come on, Nikolas," the former monk urged. "We're almost there."  
"What if they don't let us in?"  
He frowned at me. "What's with you? You don't want to come?"  
"I'm so tired…" I whispered. The thought of what lay waiting for me inside that hospital was almost more than I could bear. "So tired…"  
"Nikolas."  
Marco's voice. A hand reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me upright.  
"Nikolas, you can run from your past, but you can never outrun it. You must face it. You're afraid, aren't you?"  
There was no use denying it.  
"Yes."  
"Sweet Suzaku…" Hong's voice cut into my thoughts. "Nikolas! Marco!"  
I looked at him, then looked back at myself, at Marco, at Duke, at Phillip.  
"Seiryuu…"  
We were glowing. The three Seiryuu with a blue light, the Suzaku with red. Lightning pierced the sky. I could feel a presence watching me…a presence so near…  
"I'm not afraid," I said. "I'm ready."

  
"He's dying," Jeff said solemnly.  
Steven was seated to one side of Jeff, clamping onto his arm as if fearing his brother would evaporate before his eyes. Jeff didn't seem to mind. Taka stood leaning against the wall. I sat on the other side of Steven, leaning forward to meet Jeff's gaze.  
"Dying?" Steven whispered.  
"I…I don't speak Japanese…so I have no idea what's going on, but the doctor…" He broke off, and I quietly translated his words to Taka.  
"I never got to meet him," Steven said softly.  
I realized something. "Jeff? Where's your flute?"  
For an instant something flared in his eyes, a mirror to the thin blue glow that was reflecting around him.  
"I don't need it anymore," he said.

  
"Hotohori!"  
I spun around as she ran into my arms. She was laughing.  
"Miaka…?"  
"You made it," she said. "You made it." Looking around, I realized that Joe and Denis were standing behind me, uncertain. "And Nuriko, and Tasuki!"  
The room was still Taka's bedroom but the walls and furniture were hazy, as if part of a dream, and with a start I realized that we were dressed in the clothes of Konan. The light was warm and crimson sparkled around us. The bed where Miaka had been laying was empty, and she was real flesh and blood as I held her for a moment before gently letting go.  
"Miaka? Where is this place?"  
She didn't answer me, but simply pointed to a place where the walls seemed to end but did not really end, stretching on to infinity.  
"Look."  
There was someone kneeling there, surrounded by a bright red light. I took a step forward.  
"Mitsukake?"  
At the sound of my voice he raised his head, though there was no way he could have heard my words, so softly spoken, at the great distance which he was from me. But when I looked again, I was standing before him and there was no distance at all.  
"Heika-sama."  
"Mitsukake."  
"We are all a part of the circle," he said, his eyes looking through me rather than at me. "Suzaku and Seiryuu, all a part."  
I frowned. "What do you mean-?"

  
"Where is he?" Nikolas demanded. "Where did they put him?"  
I looked at Yui, her eyes large, at the two others who were glowing blue, who must be Suboshi and Amiboshi. At Sukinami Taka, standing a little uncertainly by the wall with Duke and Hong.  
I put a hand on Nikolas' arm. "Nikolas, calm down." Nodding to Yui. "Sorry it took us so long to get here."  
She looked like she was about to cry. "It's..it's all right," she said. "You came."  
"We had a slight…mishap," Marco put in wryly.  
That almost made Yui smile.  
"Stephan's in the ICU," the darker haired of the former twins said. For some reason, I knew he was Amiboshi, even without the flute. "I'll show you."  
I beckoned to the Suzaku as we slowly filed out of the room. "Taka? Hong? Duke?"  
Taka took a step forward, then stopped, looking at Hong.  
"You sure it's all right," Hong said, slowly. Duke looked terrified. "We are Suzaku…"  
"To hell with that," I spat. "We're all in this together, aren't we?"  
Hong said something to Taka in Japanese, and he nodded. We hurried down the hallway after the others, stopping at a door that looked like all the others. Amiboshi held the door open for us as we entered.  
A soft blue light filled the room, surrounding the man who lay on the bed, mixing with all the other lights that marked us as seishi. Nikolas reached out a hand, then drew it back quickly.  
"Nakago-sama…" he said. I could feel his sorrow.  
The blue glow around him intensified, and then subsided. I frowned.  
"What?"  
Lightning crashed and then a brilliance filled the room, bright, blazing blue and gold, and I staggered back against the onslaught of light.  
_Seiryuu…!_

  
Mitsukake closed his eyes again.  
"Part of the great circle."  
_The great circle…_  
He was no longer speaking but I could hear his voice still.  
_In order to preserve life…_

  
We were floating in a pool of light.

  
_Nakago-sama._  
It was the Suzaku healer, speaking to me out of the wide expanse of blue nothingness.  
_I know you.  
Yes.  
What do you want?_  
He smiled gently. _Do not be afraid. I have come to heal you._  
I looked at him, and his eyes were full of compassion.  
_Heal me?  
Yes._  
He was my enemy. This made no sense. _You're Suzaku. I am Seiryuu. Why would you want to heal me?  
Do you know what I learned today, Nakago-sama?_ He closed his eyes, but the smile remained. _Two lifetimes, and it took me until now to realize the truth.  
What truth?_ I demanded. _What do you want with me?  
That to preserve life…one must sometimes lose it.  
What?  
Don't you see? We are all part of the great circle. Seiryuu and Suzaku. All of us._

  
He was standing, dressed in his armor, as I remembered him from so long ago.  
_Nakago-sama! Nakago!_  
I saw Mitsukake, kneeling before him.  
_It's no use, Yui,_ Steven said. _He can't hear you._

  
_The great…circle?  
Yes,_ he said, still kneeling. _Our individual fate is intertwined with the threads of all the rest, until that of one individual is no longer separate but is part of a lifetime of those with which it is woven. That is why I have come to heal you.  
Intertwined…I don't want to be healed. Leave me be!_  
I felt ghostly presences behind me. I could see them. The seishi, Suzaku and Seiryuu, whom I had lied to. My miko, whom I had betrayed.  
But there was no anger in their faces, only hope.  
_They can see you,_ the healer said, _but they cannot hear you. So many of them, waiting for you. Will you leave them behind?  
Yui. Amiboshi. Suboshi. Ashitare. Miboshi. Tomo._  
I looked back at him, and for the first time I realized exactly what he was planning to do.  
_You're going to sacrifice yourself, aren't you?_ I said, incredulously. _You're going to heal me, but in order to heal me, you have to die!_  
He looked up at me with calm eyes. _Yes.  
What about people waiting for you? What will happen to them if you die?  
I am dying so you may live,_ he said, but there was a trace of uncertainty in his voice. _That is the noblest goal of all._  
It was then I saw her, saw her stepping out of the soft light, clothed in radiant blue, the same way I remembered her, before she died.  
_Soi…_  
_No,_ I said to him, as I saw the truth before me. What I had to do. _No. Don't you see? It doesn't matter. You don't have to do this. There is nothing for me in life._  
She smiled at me, reaching out a hand to me.  
_I've been waiting for you, Nakago._  
I looked back behind me, glancing at each of the faces I had once known but not known.  
Amiboshi. I had sent him off to die, and yet he had been willing to give me a second chance.  
Suboshi, the beloved of my miko. He nodded at me, and I nodded back. So.  
Ashitare. I had killed him, and yet he held nothing against me. He believed in fate.  
Miboshi. I had used him, as I had used all of them. He was smiling slightly, sadly.  
Tomo. He loved me, and I let him die. I opened my mouth to speak to him, before I remembered that he could not hear me, but he smiled too, and it was all right.  
Yui.  
The look in her eyes was of acceptance. She was letting me go.  
_You are noble,_ I said quietly to the Suzaku healer. _But you cannot heal me. Only one thing can heal me.  
I-  
Live,_ I said. _Because life is the greatest gift of all, and if it is true that Suzaku and Seiryuu both are intertwined in a vast circle, then my circle can never be complete in life. Because what had made me complete is here._  
I took her hand and she was warm against me, and she kissed me.  
_I love you, Nakago._  
The healer smiled again, and I saw that he understood.  
_I love you, Soi,_ I said. _Take me with you._  
And as we stepped into the light, I knew that I was complete.

  
The light faded, and I found myself leaning against a smooth wall, the wall of a hospital room.  
"What-" Phillip said in bewilderment.  
The bed in the center of the room was empty, the sheets made, as if it had never been occupied. A silver flute lay atop the sheets.  
"He's gone," Yui said softly. "Just like that."  
I remembered the woman who had come to meet him. I had seen her face and in that moment I knew that for him, there had been no turning back.  
_Soi, take care of him._  
"Nikolas? Are you all right?"  
Touching two fingers to my cheek, I found that I was crying silently and hadn't even realized it. But what I felt wasn't grief…simply…release.  
"Yes," I said softly. "I'm fine."

  
With a shock I opened my eyes, finding myself sprawled half on the bed and half on the floor of the room.  
There was a movement from the bed and I pushed myself up, hardly daring to hope.  
"Andy?" Miaka said. Her eyes found me. "Oh! So…it wasn't a dream."  
"No," I whispered. "It wasn't."  
I looked back at Joe and Denis, then at Miaka as she slowly sat up. There was light coming from the window.  
"I can't bring myself to hate him," she murmured. "For all the things that he did…just seeing that…it was more than enough to make up. For everything."  
I nodded. "Miaka…how are you feeling?"  
The smile on her face was small, but substantial.  
"Better. Can I have something to eat?"

  
For a moment I wasn't sure why I was on the carpet with my hands clasped, and then it came rushing back to me as I stood shakily.  
He had refused my offer. Refused my offer of healing, and had instead accepted his fate.  
I had offered, and he had refused.  
I remembered the look on his face when he had seen her…the woman who had been known as Soi. And I thought I understood why he had.  
She was his fate. No, his destiny.  
He had chosen the correct path.  
The phone rang, and I lept up, grabbing it.  
"Sr. Almeida? Your wife is awake and is asking to see you…"

  
We emerged back into the hall of the hospital, filing out one by one in silence. I closed the door of the empty room behind me softly.  
There were no guards attempting to stop us this time as we gathered soaked coats and boots from the waiting room and prepared to leave. No one spoke. The glow had faded from around us as well, leaving me feeling…  
Empty.  
So it always was, with fate.  
To my surprise, I could see light coming from the direction of the main entrance to the hospital. The others saw it too. I could see the confused expressions on their faces as we made our way to the doors, and then I stopped.  
The ground was still wet, but there was no flooding, no storm clouds, no thunder and lightning. The sky was tinted with brilliant purple and blue and gold and crimson.  
"Amazing," I whispered.  
I felt Yui take my hand and I turned, wrapping her into a tight embrace. The air was cool around us, as morning air should be.  
I thought of Nakago and Soi, gone forever now. But it was fitting. And perhaps in another lifetime we would all meet again, fully redeemed, ready to face each other as not as enemies, but as friends.  
There was always that hope.  
"Look, Steven," Yui said, pulling out of my arms. She was smiling. At me, at each of the seishi, Seiryuu or Suzaku, that were gathered around us. Jeff put his arm around me. "The sun's coming up."  
The circle was indeed complete.  
"Isn't it beautiful?" 

  



	11. Story Notes

**NOTES on _Fate_: 10 out of 10 parts completed 16 December 2000**

THESE NOTES HAVE MAJOR SPOILERS FOR _FATE_. IT IS RECOMMENDED THAT YOU READ THE FANFICTION BEFORE READING THE NOTES FOR THE SAKE OF CLARITY AS WELL AS PLOT.

Well, it's finally done. I promised a sequel to _Butterfly's Sleep_ and I delivered...about twenty times as long as it took me to write _Butterfly_. Much of this has to do with the fact that school started about halfway through the fic and all fanfiction writing ground to a halt as I struggled to keep up with various classes. >

But that's done now, and so is _Fate_. Writing this has been an adventure, and I know that I couldn't have done it without the nagging of many people. Midway through the fic I was going to give up, simply because I was running out of ideas. The only reason I wrote this, in the beginning, was because people wanted me to do a sequel to _Butterfly_, and I thought it was a reasonable request. Halfway through it turned into a chore...but I'm happily surprised to say that the ending chapters were rather easy to write. I enjoyed writing them, and the ideas just kept coming.

A large part of the last couple of chapters of Fate were written with an interestine theory in mind: that Suzaku and Seiryuu together form a perfect whole, a balance. You'll notice this in Suzaku's words to Mitsukake and then Mitsukake's words to Nakago in chapters 8-10. There's also foreshadowing of this in earlier chapters, such as Marco's observation about being "drawn to the miko" and Denis' conversation on the phone with Pedro. As phoenix and dragon, the two gods complement each other perfectly with the Seiryuu being the dark side for the Suzaku's light. For more on this theory, go here.

As with the notes for _Butterfly's Sleep_, I will go through a part-by-part analysis below. Spoilers below!

* * *

**I. Yami: Darkness** I don't know what possessed me to make the chapter titles the names of elements, but it worked out. It was also somehow easiest to start out with Amiboshi, to show a "darker" side of him, if you will. His messy apartment and take-out dinner kind of describe my life as a college student...^^;;;

**II. Koori: Ice** If you notice, Keisuke and Tetsuya don't figure prominently in this story at all. This was the only part they appeared in, and it was only a cameo role. I wanted to focus on the seishi of both gods instead of pulling outsiders into the fic. Phillip Cartwright's encounter with the commander and his last-minute PCS notice (Permanent Change of Station) are rather typical of the United States Air Force. I'm in the Air Force, so I should know ^^; A lot of people have commented to me that they were surprised that Tamahome would not forgive Suboshi after all this time. I don't think he'd be as willing to forgive as people think...after all, this was the first time in this lifetime that he had met Suboshi.

**III. Iwa: Stone** The conversation between Jeff and Stephan is one of the more important in the fic. It basically sums up all the seishi's thoughts on reincarnation. I also established Marco in this part as a surprisingly lucid observer of what was going on around him with the reborn seishi. Fitting, since he was denied that in the first life. The reason that Yui couldn't reach Jeff on the phone was because he had been deleting all messages on the answering machine because of his ex-girlfriend. By the time Steven called Jeff, he had left New York.

**IV. Hi: Fire** This was where I kind of decided that EVERYONE needed to go to Tokyo for the fic to go any further. So if it was kind of rushed, blame the seishi ^^;; Hong and Denis were spur-of-the-moment creations when I realized that I needed seven Suzaku seishi and that Chichiri and Tasuki had not been given reincarnations in the mini-dramas since they were still alive.

**V. Kaze: Wind** I have never been to Tokyo in my life, so I'm guesing at the location of everything here. If I am totally off, just pretend that Tokyo is actually built the way it is in the fic...The first meeting in here was kind of a spontaneous thing. I wasn't exactly sure where the fic was going at this point, so I contrived a meeting. Though it worked. Same with Nikolas, Marco, and Phillip, though theirs is not as significant since they are all Seiryuu.

**VI. Mizu: Water** The transition between parts 5 and 6 IS choppy. This is because I wrote part 6 about two months after part 5 and some things had been...forgotten. Nakago in the accident was a nasty plot bunny that just wouldn't let me go. His conversation with Yui is a very relevant one also. Also, by the time I finished the chapter, I realized that it would be quite foolish of her to call everyone to the hospital in the middle of a raging storm. Oh well.

**VII. Chi: Earth** I made Chichiri regain the rest of his memories in this chapter because it was a nice tie-in with the flood. Amiboshi playing his flute to heal is also a turn-around from what he used it for in the series. I wanted to show the other side of Amiboshi.

**VIII. Sora: Sky** Mitsukake! Too late to get him to Tokyo, but I realized I'd need him for the rest of the story. This chapter has inklings of the "mirroring" effect that the Seiryuu and Suzaku experience throughout the series...namely, that the Seiryuu side is a dark mirror of the Suzaku side, and what happens to one side happens to the other in a way. This chapter also starts the "forgive and forget" tone of the last couple of parts.

**IX. Ai: Love** There is a lot of Suzaku in this one, but I needed it to support the theme of mirroring and counterbalance. More forgiving! I had a lot of fun writing the reunion scene between Jeff and Steven. I'm a twins fan, I admit it. ^_^

**X. Hikari: Light** If Seiryuu is the dark mirror of Suzaku, then together they must create a complete unity. Nakago's conversation with Mitsukake shows this. Nakago belongs with Soi, in my mind, and that's why I let him die. It also taught both sides something, don't you think?

* * *

There's a question of languages in _Fate_: namely that when the characters are all together, some of them can't speak the native languages of some of the others. So here's a quick rundown of some confusing spots where you might not be sure of the languages spoken:

II. Taka and Steven: Japanese. Taka can't speak English.  
III. Yui and Steven: Japanese. Steven knows enough Japanese to speak it fluently and I'd imagine Yui would be more comfortable in her own language.  
Marco and Nikolas: English. Italian and Greek don't leave much choice...  
IV. Hong and Andy: Mandarin Chinese, since both of them are Chinese.  
V. Hong and Denis: English. Denis is Bulgarian.  
Hong and Stephan: English.  
VI. Yui and Stephan: English, since Yui can't speak French and Stephan is not fluent in Japanese.  
Yui, Jeff, Hong, and Denis: English. Jeff knows only one language.  
Phillip and Yui: English  
Nikolas and Yui: Japanese  
Hong and Andy: Mandarin Chinese  
Taka and Steven: Japanese  
VII. Hong and Phillip: English. Like Jeff, Phillip knows only English.  
VIII. Taka and Steven: Japanese  
Hong, Duke, Phillip, Nikolas, and Marco: English  
IX. Joe, Andy, and Denis: English. I'm guessing that Joe is American or British.  
X. Jeff, Steven, Yui, and Taka: English, with Yui translating for Taka to Japanese  
Mitsukake and Nakago: I'm not quite sure. I would say Japanese, since the whole conversation takes place in "FY space" instead of the real world, and they spoke Japanese in the series.

_Fate_ was translated by me. All quotes at the beginnings of chapters are from Sun Tzu's treatise _The Art of War_, a wonderful read for anyone who is interested in the military or just wanting some tips and pointers for life.

As with _Butterfly's Sleep_, there was music that definitely influenced the writing of this:

Fushigi Yuugi: All the Seiryuu image songs and themes, as well as "Everything for You," "Perfect World," and "Legend of the Suzaku."  
_Heavenly_, L'Arc~en~Ciel album  
Glay: "Special Thanks," "Miki Piano," and "Rain"  
_The Visit_, Loreena McKennit album  
X Japan: "Say Anything"  
EMU: "Hohoemi ni Kisu o," "Labyrinth," "Kotoba ni Dekinai Koi o Shiyou," and "Eien no Love Song"  
SES: "Dreams Come True"  
Saiyuki: "Open up your Mind"  
And of course L'Arc~en~Ciel: "Fate" and "Butterfly's Sleep"

A BIG thank you to everyone who helped me during the 4? months that I was writing Fate:

The Fushigi Yuugi Mailing List for encouragement and interesting gender conversations...  
Laurelgand, for corpse tea, seppuku suggestions, comforsting in times of need, and "kill-maim-hurt-Pedro-and-die" feedback  
Quicksilver, my co-author of the Gundam monster fic. CRASH! GOODBYE, FILES!  
Moonsong, who finally read it! ^_^ for encouragement and lots and lots of EMU. I kept my end of the bet, neesan! *nudgenudge*  
Night-Mare for happy thoughts  
Dreamwalker for Seiryuu support  
Saishi for great comments on _Butterfly_ that convinced me not to give _Fate_ up  
Lyra Stormrider, also for Sakura trees and corpse tea

I hope everyone has as much fun reading this as I had writing it...and perhaps a little more. And NO there will NOT be a sequel!!!! >

Seiryuu no Miko and the Seiryuu no seishi like comments at lordofmerentha@yahoo.com. 


End file.
